No One Will Ever Love You
by piratewench78
Summary: A look back at Deacon and Rayna's history in a series of one shots.
1. No One Will Ever Love You, Like I Do

_**These are mostly Deacon and Rayna history one-shots, starting and ending with a story around "No One Will Every Love You". They won't necessarily be in any kind of order and my plan is to make them fun and fluffy without a lot of drama.**_

Rayna drove up the long driveway to Riverside. It was hard to believe she hadn't even crossed the county line. This place was out in the country west of Nashville and was peaceful and calm. Just the right place for people who were overcoming their addictions. Thirty days ago she had brought Deacon here. It had taken her a long time to work up the courage to tell him she thought he had a problem and that she wanted him to work on it, to get better. Their lives had gotten so much better in the last year or so on the professional front. She'd gone from opening for George Strait to opening for Vince Gill and she was getting a lot of traction on her first album. She was getting good radio play and, if she wasn't on stage, she was meeting DJ's in cities around the country. She'd also been nominated for a CMA Horizon Award, her first.

Deacon's alcohol problem had cast an unfortunate shadow over all the good things going on. At first, she didn't think too much about it, but as time went on he seemed to not be able to control it. He'd had a drunk driving arrest. He'd been thrown in jail after hitting someone at a show that had come on to Rayna. He was drunk more nights than he wasn't and he'd missed a show or two. She didn't want things to get out of hand, so she'd convinced him to go to Riverside. Actually, it hadn't taken a lot of convincing. He'd been very contrite and apologetic and pleaded with her not to lose faith in him.

She had arranged for him to go to rehab when she had some down time from touring. She was making more money now and she could afford to pay for him to go, so she did. She'd missed him horribly and had spent most of her time writing sad poems and notes in her journal about how much she loved him. She'd hardly slept the night before she was so excited about picking him up. She had gotten dressed carefully, wearing a white sundress that he loved and her favorite red boots that he liked teasing her about. She'd carefully done her makeup, even though she thought she'd ruin it with tears.

She parked the car and waited. She was a little early, but that was okay. She watched the front door like a hawk and felt her heart surge every time it opened, only to be disappointed that it was someone else. Then she saw him. He walked out under the portico and looked around. She opened the door and jumped out of the car. Slamming the door shut, she ran towards him. "Deacon!" she shouted.

He turned and his face lit up when he saw her. He started to run towards her and when she got to him, he threw his arms around her and lifted her up, twirling her around. "Oh, baby, I've missed you so much," he said. He put her down on her feet and pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, pressing herself as close to him as she could. "I've missed you too, babe," she said breathlessly, when he finally pulled away from her mouth. She smiled up at him and put her hands on his face, bringing him back down to her for another deep kiss. "How are you feeling?" she asked finally.

He clung to her as though for dear life. "Amazing. This was great. I feel better than I have in years."

She smiled happily. "I'm so glad." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Let's go home," she whispered.

* * *

Much, much later, Deacon was holding Rayna in his arms as they lay in bed together. He kissed her softly. "I missed you, Ray," he said.

"I missed you too." She smiled shyly. "I dreamed about you every night. And wrote about you every day."

Deacon raised his eyebrows. "Will you show me what you wrote?"

Rayna looked away. "Oh, I don't know. I don't think any of it's really any good."

"Let me see. I'll bet it's better than you think."

Rayna hesitated, then finally reached into the drawer in the bedside table and pulled out her notebook. She handed it to Deacon and sat watching him read through what she'd written, flipping through the pages slowly. When he stopped on one, she knew he must have seen something he liked. She never felt confident writing on her own. She told anyone who would listen that Deacon was the real writer, that she just added a line here or there.

He looked up at her, a serious look on his face. "This is really good, Ray," he said.

She got a hopeful look on her face and leaned over to take a look at what he was talking about. _Don't you try to tell me someone's waiting / No one's waiting for you / Oh and don't you try to tell me that you're wanted / That you're needed, cause it's not true. _"You really like it?" she asked.

Deacon nodded. "It's beautiful," he whispered.

Rayna blushed. "I wrote it for you."

Deacon took a deep breath and turned back to the words on the page. "No one will ever love you, like I do." He squeezed her hand. "Is this all you have so far?"

"It's all I have. It's as far as I got." She sighed. "I kind of got stuck after this."

Deacon looked at her. Her hair was all tangled, she had a slight pout on her lips. He'd missed her so much it had hurt. He'd hated that he was in such bad shape that rehab was the only answer. He'd hated losing thirty days of his life with her. He had dreamed about her every night. Her cute reddish-gold bob that she was finally starting to grow out. Her saucy, dancing blue eyes. The little sprinkle of freckles across her nose that, when she was being playful and wrinkled her nose, made her look like a little girl. And yet sexy at the same time. Her smile, the one that lit up her eyes and usually ended up turning into a kiss for him. Her body, her skin, all her curves and edges, how they fit so absolutely perfectly together, as though they were made for it. He growled deep in his throat and tossed the notebook to the floor, reaching out for her.

* * *

In the days leading up to his departure for Riverside, Deacon had been despondent. He had felt like a failure and had told Rayna over and over that he wasn't good enough for her, that she deserved so much better than him. He had offered to set her free, let her find someone more appropriate, someone she wouldn't have to prop up like she did him. She had told him over and over that this was just a bump in the road, just a resting spot before they picked up where they left off. That she wasn't leaving him, wasn't interested in a life without him. He'd been sure that thirty days without him would show her the benefits of a drama-free life. He'd held his breath the entire walk down the hall and out the door, in case she wasn't there. Even though they'd given him her letters after the first two weeks, filled with love and yearning, he was sure she'd come to her senses. He'd told her that if she wasn't there when he got out that he would understand, would find someone else.

So when he'd seen her words on the page, he'd realized that she had listened to everything he'd said and she was telling him that he'd been wrong all along. That their love would overcome anything. He had kept coming back to them over the next several days as they got back into the swing of their regular lives, rehearsing for the next leg of the Garth Brooks tour, and working on Rayna's next album. He wanted to complete that song she'd written, because he had a feeling about it, that it could be something very special. He also wanted to do something for her that would show her how much he loved and appreciated her. How glad he was that she was in his life and that she believed in him.

It was at a rehearsal a few days later later that inspiration hit him. They were doing a dress rehearsal and Rayna was in her sparkly dress and high heels. He loved watching her and always was amazed at how she could prance across the stage so effortlessly on those sky-high heels. When they were finished, she had walked over to him and he'd pushed his guitar around on his back and had pulled her in. "Why don't you get down off those high heels, baby?" he whispered in her ear. She had giggled and whispered something dirty in his ear and he had grabbed her hand and pulled her off stage, as she laughed happily.

Later that night, with Rayna wrapped up in the sheet beside him, snoring lightly, Deacon had reached for the notebook that was still lying on the floor next to his side of the bed. The full moon outside the window was almost as bright as a bedside lamp and he hastily scribbled down another verse and a bridge to her song. He read it over a couple times, made a handful of minor changes, and then put the notebook down. He rolled on his side and put his arm around Rayna's waist, drawing her close against him. She made a little murmuring noise and he nuzzled her neck, then closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

When Rayna came home from lunch with Tandy, Deacon was sitting on the couch with his guitar. She put down her purse and curled up next to him. "Something new you're working on?" she asked.

He turned towards her and gave her a quick kiss. "Yeah. Remember what you showed me the night I got home?" She nodded. "Well, I came up with another verse and a little bridge at the end," he went on. "And I thought, maybe, it could be a duet."

"Really? Can we try it?" He handed her the notebook and she quickly read through the words. She looked up at him and smiled. "I like what you added. And you have the music?"

He nodded and smiled. "I do."

"Well, why don't you sing it for me first and then we can work it out together." She sat back and listened as Deacon sang the song all the way through. When he finished she had tears in her eyes. "Oh, babe, that's amazing," she said. "I love it."

"Would you want to record it?"

Rayna nodded. "I would. We could introduce it on the tour."

"Actually, Erika called and asked if we could play tonight. We could do it there, if you thought you could learn it by then."

She frowned a little. "You really want to do the Bluebird tonight when we have to leave in the morning?"

He shrugged. "Why not?" He nudged her shoulder and winked. "We can sleep on the bus."

She smiled and blushed. "Yeah, we could, I guess." She leaned in and kissed him. "Well, let's practice this then."

* * *

That night, they sang "No One Will Ever Love You" for the very first time at The Bluebird Café.

_Don't you try to tell me someone's waiting / They're not waiting for you_

_Oh and don't you try to tell me that you're wanted / That you're needed_

_Cause it's not true_

_I know why you're lonely / It's time you knew it too_

_No one will ever love you_

_No one will ever love you_

_No one will ever love you / Like I do_

_Why you always looking for the limelight? / Ain't you satisfied with me?_

_Oh for once why don't you get down off your high heels? / You're no big deal_

_Can't you see?_

_I know why you're lonely / It's time you knew it too_

_No one will ever love you_

_No one will ever love you_

_No one will ever love you / Like I do_

_I'm all you got_

_I'm all you'll ever need_

_I'm all you'll ever have_

_No one will ever love you_

_No one will ever love you_

_No one will ever love you / Like I do / Like I do / Like I do_

When they finished the song, there was a long moment of silence. Rayna held her breath. She and Deacon had poured their hearts out in that song and she realized it would crush her if the audience didn't like it. Then all at once there was a massive cheer and wild applause and she breathed out, smiling. Deacon grabbed her hand and when she looked in his eyes, she saw the glint of unshed tears.

It turned out to be the song that put her on the map for good and it was the one that every audience clamored to hear. For years it was the last song of their set and every time they sang it, Rayna and Deacon were transported to their own little bubble, oblivious to anyone around them as they sang their love letter to each other. It was always the song Rayna held most dear and, even when times were bad, it held her up and helped her get through.


	2. I Want A House On A Lake

It had been a hot day in Nashville. Even though it was just late April, there had been a heat wave and the temperatures were uncharacteristically in the nineties. Even at night, it was sticky, so the windows were open in the apartment. Rayna felt hot and sweaty, but part of that was because she was sitting on top of Deacon, grinding against him as he clutched her ass and pressed into her. She put one hand on his shoulder and then, looking deep into his eyes, she reached the other hand down between them and stroked him. His eyes were dark and half-closed and he growled deep in his throat. He moved his hands to her breasts, palming them and then pinching her nipples until she whimpered in pleasure. She could feel her orgasm building and she moved the hand that was between them, moving her hips frantically.

"Come for me, baby," Deacon groaned. "Come on, baby, let's do it." He moved his hips the way she liked and then watched her moan his name over and over.

Rayna was too caught up in the bigness of the orgasm to think of anything else and it wasn't until the circles of pleasure were subsiding that she realized Deacon was coming too. When they were both done and breathing hard, she looked down at him and smiled. He slid his hands down to her hips and she leaned down slightly and put her hands on his forearms. She wiggled her hips slightly, causing him to gasp and then smile.

Suddenly he grabbed her and rolled them both over so that he was on top of her. He kissed her. "I love you, baby," he said.

"I love you too." She grimaced. "But it's too hot for you to lay on top of me like this. Much as I love it." He rolled off and they lay there, side by side, the fingers of their hands tangled up together. They lived in a one bedroom apartment in a sketchy part of East Nashville. The air conditioner was broken and, with no breeze, it felt stifling.

They'd been performing together for a little over two years, living together for about a year and a half, ever since Rayna had been kicked out of her father's house. She'd fallen in love with Deacon Claybourne inside of ten minutes of meeting him, back when she was barely sixteen and trying to get started in country music. They played bars all over middle Tennessee, barely making enough to cover the rent on the apartment and food between that and part-time day jobs. Rayna Jaymes had grown up in Belle Meade, the enclave of mansions and the Nashville rich, but she'd felt like a square peg in a round hole. This suited her, living day to day, loving Deacon every night.

Deacon looked over at Rayna as she lay there fanning herself. He still was amazed every day that she was his. She had all the manners and grace of the very rich. She'd never had to work a day in her life, going to the most exclusive private schools and being driven around town wherever she needed to go. She wore simple clothes, but she had a pair of very expensive red cowboy boots. But she had the voice of an angel and, even though he was a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks, she had liked him right away. She had flirted with him shamelessly, but he was wary of her, because she was so young and he was afraid her daddy would kill him if he touched her.

One night, after another open mic night not long after they'd started performing together, he'd offered to drive her home. He'd been surprised when she reached over and put her hand over his crotch. In fact, he'd nearly run off the road. He had managed to find a dark parking lot and pulled over, conscious of the fact that she hadn't taken her hand away and he was hard as a rock. He had turned off the car and turned to look at her. She was smiling, all the while running her hand over the bulge in his pants.

He'd been so stunned that he didn't realize that she had unzipped his pants until he felt her cool hands on him. He moaned and then he grabbed her and kissed her. She quickly straddled him, rubbing his hardness against her panties. He reached under her skirt and ripped them back, causing her to gasp a little. He touched her and groaned as he felt how wet she was.

She was still kissing him and moving her hips over him, moaning in the back of her throat as he started to press into her. She was pressing her breasts against him and he felt like he was ready to explode. He grabbed her hips and pushed deep inside her, realizing at that moment that she'd never had sex before. But he couldn't stop and she didn't seem to want him to, after her initial sharp cry, and he came hard and fast.

When they both could breathe normally again, she was still straddling his lap and he was still deep inside her. "You shouldn't have let me do that," he whispered, his arms holding her tightly against him.

She kissed him lightly. "I wanted to. I wanted it to be with you." She smiled. "I like how this feels." And she kissed him again.

Rayna squeezed Deacon's hand, bringing him back to the present. "What you thinking about, babe?"

"You. And how fucking hot it is."

Rayna sighed. "Yeah. At least it'll cool off in a couple days." She rolled over on her side, still not cuddled close to him like she normally would. It was just too hot. "You know what I want one day?"

"What? An air conditioner?"

She laughed. "Well, that would be nice. At least one that works. But no, what I really want is a place on a lake. Someplace for us to go and just be by ourselves, away from everything. Where it would be cool when it's so hot in Nashville."

"What would it look like?"

"Hmm, that's a good question." She thought about it for a few minutes. "I think I want someplace that has lots of windows and French doors that you can open up and catch all the breezes. And a big wide porch with a couple chairs, so we could sit and look out at the lake and just talk. And a dock, so we can go swimming."

"Skinny dipping?" Deacon asked playfully.

She smiled at him. "Of course. But someplace far enough away that people couldn't find us. And it would just be for you and me."

He rolled towards her and ran his thumb over her cheek. "I'll buy that place for you one day, baby. I promise."


	3. Rayna Jaymes Is Born

Rayna woke up and it was still dark. She looked over to Deacon's side of the bed and it was empty. The bedroom door was slightly cracked and she could see a faint light and hear Deacon on the guitar, singing words she couldn't make out.

She had lived with him in this apartment for a little over two months, ever since her father had kicked her out. She was grateful to Deacon for taking her in. They'd been sleeping together since about three months after they had met, but she hadn't been sure he would be ready for this step. But he had been the one that drove her home that night after her first paying gig, to find her suitcases out at the gate. It wasn't even all of her things, but she'd been too distraught that night to care. Deacon had held her and comforted her as they sat on the street in his truck. Then he told her she could stay with him and he took her home.

They had found a companionable rhythm almost immediately. It certainly had made songwriting easier and nights spent alternately making love and cuddling had made their relationship even more solid.

Life had improved now that she was getting paying gigs instead of just open mic nights. Together with the money from their day jobs, they had a little money left over at the end of every week. The night before, they had played at a dive bar in East Nashville and Deacon nearly got into a fight with some patrons trying to feel her up. She smiled a little as she thought about how much she loved him protecting her.

She sat up in the bed and swung her legs over the side. She reached for a shirt, one of Deacon's flannel ones, on the floor. She stood up, pulling it on, then buttoning it. She walked over to the door and pulled it open. She stood, leaning against the door jamb, and listened. Deacon was sitting on the couch with his back to her, softly singing.

_Two arms around me, heaven to ground me / And a family that always calls me home / Four wheels to get there, enough love to share / And a sweet, sweet, sweet song / At the end of the day, Lord I pray / I have a life that's good_

All of a sudden he stopped and turned his head to look at her. "Hey," he said with a smile. "How long you been there?"

"Not long." She walked over and put her arms around his neck, leaning down to kiss him. "That was beautiful. Is it new?"

She could have sworn he blushed. "Kind of," he said. "I wrote it down a few months ago but decided to put some music to it."

Rayna walked around and sat next to him, pulling her legs up underneath her. "What's it about?" she asked.

He worked his lip for a moment, then said, "You."

She looked surprised. "Me?"

He nodded. "I wrote it the day I met you. On a napkin." He took in a breath and let it out. "I knew that day you were the only woman for me."

Tears stung her eyes and she lay her head on his shoulder, reaching out to grab his hand. "You know, I fell in love with you five minutes after I met you."

He kissed the side of her head. "It was meant to be, then. A life that's good."

She sat up. "Will you sing me the whole song?"

He smiled and then did just that. As he sang the words, he thought about how he had watched her on that stage the very first time. Watty had asked him to come and, because it was Watty, he had. From the moment he'd laid his eyes on Rayna Wyatt, he'd been mesmerized. It wasn't just because she was pretty, although she was, and it wasn't just because she had a beautiful voice, although she did. It was something that he couldn't put words to really, at first, it was a feeling in his heart and his soul that made it feel like his whole life had changed in that moment. And that's when he started scribbling words on a napkin. He'd jammed it into his pocket and forgot about it until a few days later when he was doing his laundry and cleaned out the pockets. By then, Watty had convinced the two of them to collaborate, and the random words he'd written on that napkin seemed truer than ever.

He never in a million years thought he would end up with someone like Rayna. She was so perfect, even at her young age. She was barely sixteen when they met, but even now that she was almost seventeen, it made him a little nervous, her living with him. He had met Lamar Wyatt and was a little afraid of him, truth be told. He didn't know if Lamar knew Rayna was living here, but he guessed Lamar was too smart a man not to. He knew Rayna's father didn't like him, even though he acted like he didn't care about his daughter.

When Deacon had come to Nashville, he'd thought he would one day be a headliner. He supposed that could still happen, but he had been surprised to find himself content working for Rayna. She called him her partner, but they both knew she was the boss. He loved writing with her, and all that led to, and playing behind her on stage. When he'd written the words _I don't need fame, no one to call my name_, it was true. He just needed Rayna.

They were both so young that it had surprised them both to connect on such a deep, mature level. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and he hoped she felt the same.

Rayna sat up and looked at him then. "So do you see us in a little house with a white picket fence and a family?" she asked.

He nodded, looking serious. "I do. Ray, I think you're going to be a star. And I'll be right there with you. But we'll still have someplace to come home to, someplace to raise a family and grow old together." He suddenly realized he might have gone too far, been too intense. "Unless you think it's too soon to know that."

Rayna smiled and shook her head. "I feel the same way. I knew you were the only man I'd ever truly love the first time I saw you." She moved her hand down between his legs. "I want to show you how much I love you."

Deacon shifted a bit as he felt himself get hard under her touch. He pulled her in and kissed her, as he felt her gently squeeze and stroke him. "Oh, God, Ray," he groaned. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her up, leading her back to the bedroom.

* * *

Later, as she was wrapped up in his arms, their legs entwined, and her head on his chest, she lightly ran her fingers along his forearm. She took a deep breath.

Deacon lifted his head slightly. "What is it, Ray?" he asked. He had learned that when she sighed or when she took a deep breath, it usually meant she'd been thinking about something and wasn't sure whether to say it out loud or not.

She was silent for a moment, still running her fingers along his arm. "You know, Watty has us set up to do this new demo," she said, her voice a little hesitant.

It was really a demo for _her_, but Deacon let it slide. "Are you nervous about it?" he asked.

She looked up at him and smiled. "No. I'm excited actually. But…." Her voice trailed off and she looked away.

Deacon shifted a little. "You want to replace me," he said, his voice glum.

Rayna looked up in shock. "No! Of course not. I couldn't do any of this without you, Deacon." She smiled at him.

He smiled back and kissed her. "Whew!" he said with a chuckle. "I was worried there for a minute."

Rayna made a face and lightly smacked him on the arm. "No, no, nothing like that. It's just that I talked to Tandy today. And, you know, Daddy's still all mad at me, I guess." She sighed. "He said that if I continue with this 'folly', as he calls it, I can't use the Wyatt name."

Deacon frowned. "What? Why the hell not?"

She shrugged. "I guess he's afraid he'll be tainted by the country stink, or something. Whatever. Anyway, I decided to use my mother's name. So I'm going to be Rayna Jaymes from now on." She looked at Deacon. "What do you think?"

"Rayna Jaymes," Deacon said thoughtfully. Then he grinned. "Rayna Jaymes, I think you're the sexiest woman alive and that name suits you just fine."

Rayna smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah. And I'm going to show you just how sexy you really are." He slid his hand under the covers and between her legs as she first laughed and then moaned as he worked his magic on her.


	4. Postcard From Mexico

Rayna slid the white sundress over her head. She smoothed it over her hips. The skirt was short, the way she liked it. It showed off her long, toned legs. She sat on the side of the unmade bed and slid on a pair of gold high heeled sandals. She got up and walked over to the bathroom counter and looked through her jewelry. She picked out a pair of gold chandelier earrings with turquoise accents, a turquoise bead necklace, and gold bangles. She looked in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her shoulder length hair, tousling it into sexy waves around her face. She ran her hands over the bodice of the sundress. It showed off her cleavage perfectly. She smiled to herself and then put on the jewelry. She checked her makeup, then walked over and picked up a small gold clutch purse. She put her key in it and then walked out the door and headed for the bar.

When she got to the outdoor bar, she looked around. It was early evening and the sun was slowly sinking into the Pacific Ocean. It was warm, but not oppressive, and there was a light, pleasant breeze. The bar wasn't too crowded, but most of the seats were taken. She took in the various people that were there, checking out all the men. She saw an empty stool on the ocean side of the bar and walked over casually and sat down. She perched on the stool and leaned on the bar, crossing her legs and making sure that her breasts were shown off to their best advantage. The bartender came over and smiled appreciatively, asking what she wanted. She ordered a shot of tequila.

The bartender brought back the shot, a slice of lime and salt. She lifted her hand to her mouth and slowly dragged her tongue over the back of her hand. Then she sprinkled salt there. She licked the salt, then quickly downed the tequila, finishing it with a bite of the lime. And then she ordered another. She could see that she was being looked at, admired even. She smiled to herself.

Over the next thirty minutes, several men approached her and she would chat with them briefly, then tell them she was waiting for someone. Finally a man approached her and sat on the stool next to her. She'd seen him across the bar, she had noticed him when she got there. He had on dark jeans and a white shirt, with cowboy boots. He had dark hair and blue eyes, with a little stubble of hair on his face. He ordered them both another tequila shot. She frowned slightly at him as he downed the shot, but then she shrugged and drank her own.

"You looking for a little action tonight, baby?" he asked her.

Rayna looked at him and shrugged. "Maybe," she said indifferently.

"We could go somewhere. I have a place."

"What kind of place? I'm kind of a high class girl."

"What do you like?"

She smiled and then ran her finger down his arm. "I have expensive tastes. Silk sheets, room service, you know what I mean."

He leaned into her. "I think you need someone with a big gun," he whispered.

Rayna couldn't help the little moan in the back of her throat. She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. "I don't know. I think I gotta go."

"I'll go with you."

"I don't know."

"You're a bad, bad girl." He gently grabbed her arm. "I think you need to come with me." She pulled away.

She stood up and picked up her clutch. "I gotta go. Maybe I'll see you again some time." She turned and walked away and the man watched her, appreciating the sexy sway of her hips and thinking about the way her breasts had looked in the sundress. He smiled to himself and started to follow her.

Rayna knew he was a safe distance behind her. She walked into the mostly empty restaurant and headed for the restrooms. She went in the ladies' room and stood at the mirror, fluffing her hair. A few minutes later the door opened and the man from the bar walked in. She didn't turn to look at him. He walked up behind her and pressed his body against her back.

"I think you owe me a little something for my trouble," he said, his voice low and quiet.

She met his eyes in the mirror. Her stomach was turning flips. "I don't know what trouble you mean," she said, her voice throaty.

He reached around her and ran his hands over the exposed part of her breasts. "You left me holding the gun, baby," he said.

She felt an electric tingle run through her. "I think you have me mistaken for someone else," she said, still not taking her eyes off him in the mirror.

He smiled and leaned into her neck. "Oh, I don't think so," he murmured into her ear. Then he turned her around to face him. They were both breathing hard. He reached his hand down and lightly touched her leg. She gasped. Then he ran his fingers slowly up her leg, pushing her dress up as he went. She couldn't help the moan that left her lips as he touched her ever so gently. When he reached his destination, he was a little startled that she wasn't wearing panties. "You are a very bad girl," he groaned, as he slid his fingers inside her. Rayna grabbed the counter with her hands as he pressed her against it, moving his fingers in and out. She threw her head back, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open. She made little mewling sounds. "Oh, God," he said again and then he slid his fingers out and grabbed her arm, pulling her across the floor into a bathroom stall. He shut the door behind them. She put her hands on the wall in front of her as he lifted her dress. "Oh, God," he moaned again.

"Please," she whispered. "I need you inside me now." She heard him fumble with the zipper on his pants and then suddenly he pushed himself inside her. The sex was hot and dirty and fast. She loved how he felt inside her and it didn't take long until she came, groaning loudly over and over. And then he followed behind her, shouting incoherently. When they were both done, he collapsed against her back. She relished the feel of him still inside her as her breathing finally returned to normal. His face was buried in her hair next to her neck and she could feel his breath, hot and with the smell of tequila on it. His arms were around her waist and she covered them with her own. "I dream about this," she breathed.

He chuckled softly and pressed against her. "I know," he said, his voice low and sexy. He finally pulled away from her and turned her to face him. "Let's go, baby."

She smoothed her dress down and followed him out of the bathroom stall. She looked around and was glad that there was no one else in there. When they got outside, she led the way and when they got to the room, she opened her clutch and gave him the key. He had his arm around her waist and leaned in to slide the key in the lock and then open the door. She walked in, then turned and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him in and into her arms. He pushed the door closed and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her deep and hard. He slid his hands down over her ass and pushed her dress up, running his hands over her naked flesh and pressing her against him.

She laughed into his mouth and then pulled back slightly. "That was fun," she said, a smile on her face.

He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. "If I'd known you weren't wearing panties, I'd have taken you right up against the bar."

"That would have probably gotten us thrown in jail, for sure."

Rayna kissed him again, lightly biting on his lower lip. Her dress had ridden up to her waist and she could feel his hardness against her skin. She moved her hips seductively. Suddenly he broke the kiss and pulled her dress up over her head, tossing it to the floor. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing it on top of the dress. He sucked in his breath as he lazily ran his fingers over her breasts.

Rayna grabbed his shirt and pulled it free of his jeans, then unbuttoned it. His hands left her breasts long enough to shrug it off, then resumed their lazy ministrations. Rayna ran her tongue over her lips and drew in a shaky breath. She lowered her hands to his jeans and unbuttoned the top button, then drew down the zipper. She grabbed the waistband on either side and pulled them down, along with his briefs.

Then she sat down on the bed and pulled off her shoes, while he kicked off his boots and shed his jeans. He put a knee on the bed next to her and she reached up her hands to encircle him, taking him in her mouth. After a moment, he said, "No," and pushed her back on the bed.

He entered her quickly and she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his back as he expertly moved in and out and brought her to orgasm. As her moans trailed off, he pulled out and flipped her over on her stomach. He grabbed her hips and positioned her so that he could take her from behind. He came loudly and then rolled off, lying next to her on his back.

Rayna turned her head to face him, still lying on her stomach. She stretched her arm out and ran her fingers over his chest. "The beads are still working," she whispered.

He turned his head to look at her and grinned. He ran his fingers over her cheek. "I think there's a song in there, Ray," he said. "Something dirty and sexy and hot."

She smiled. "Do you want to work on it now?"

Deacon nodded. "I do. I've got an idea." He sat up and then got up from the bed to get his guitar and a note pad. He crawled back into the bed and, wrapped up in the definitely-not-silk sheets with Rayna, in a hole-in-the-wall hotel along the western Mexican coast, they wrote "Postcard from Mexico", that became, after "No One Will Ever Love You", their most requested song.


	5. I'm Going To Be A Country Music Star!

Almost as soon as the car stopped in front of the house, Rayna opened the door and started running up the front steps. "Rayna, I don't want you shutting yourself up in your room!" Lamar Wyatt called after his younger daughter.

Rayna didn't break stride, but briefly turned and waved a hand. "I gotta practice, Daddy!" she called back. And then she was in the front door and gone.

Tandy stole a quick look at her father's face and saw his jaw clench and his eyes narrow. "Daddy, leave her be," she said quietly.

Lamar turned and glared at his older daughter. "Tandy, I'm tired of her running off and not being part of this family."

Tandy stopped and shrugged, then followed her father the rest of the way up the steps and into the house. She wasn't exactly sure why it mattered to Lamar whether Rayna sat on the patio with them or not. He hardly spoke to her anyway. It had been that way ever since their mother had died three and a half years earlier. Rayna had been such a daddy's girl before that and neither one of them was quite sure why that changed. Tandy thought it might have had something to do with the fact that Rayna looked so much like Virginia Wyatt and she guessed that it was painful for Lamar. But now that Rayna was so focused on her music, it seemed to have driven an even bigger wedge between them. She was sure that Rayna was upstairs now with that guitar.

* * *

In fact, that was exactly where Rayna was. As soon as they got back from lunch at the country club, she'd raced upstairs and straight for her closet. She took off the Sunday best dress and threw it on the floor, along with the little kitten heels that Tandy had bought for her. She changed into jeans and a t-shirt and pulled out her guitar. Her mom had given her that guitar when she was ten years old, told her that it had been her guitar and she wanted Rayna to have it. Virginia loved music and it was one of the things that she and her younger daughter both enjoyed. Virginia had raised both her girls on bluegrass and country standards and the three of them would sing together whenever Lamar wasn't home. But Tandy wasn't as interested in all that as Rayna was.

Rayna wanted to be a country music star. She had confided that in her mother not too long before she'd died in that car accident and Virginia had been so pleased. Rayna spent hours writing in her journal, something her mother had told her the best songwriters did, and only now was she starting to try to take some of those words and create songs out of them. She had taken years of guitar lessons, but she knew she wasn't very good. Even though she practiced diligently, she seemed to be more skilled at the piano than the guitar she loved.

She really didn't want to sit out on the patio with her daddy and Tandy. It was bad enough that she was forced to go to church and then Sunday lunch at the country club. Lamar hardly included her in any conversations and she spent most of the time just picking at her food and daydreaming about singing at the Ryman Auditorium.

All the kids at school made fun of her for liking country music. It was like you couldn't be a teenager and not be into rock and alternative music. Certainly there were songs she liked, but she gravitated more to the storytelling of country music. She loved listening to John Conlee and Dolly Parton and Loretta Lynn and Merle Haggard, all country artists that her mother had loved as well. She was working on putting together a short song list that she could use at open mic sessions around town. At the top of her list right now was Patti Page's "Tennessee Waltz". She'd been working on some lyrics for a song of her own about growing up and being independent and moving on, but had been really unhappy with how that was going. She settled the guitar on her legs and leaned over it, carefully picking out the notes and then started to sing.

_I was dancin' with my darlin' to the Tennessee Waltz / When an old friend I happened to see / I introduced her to my loved one and while they were dancin' / My friend stole my sweetheart from me_

* * *

Tandy poured sweet tea for both herself and her father as they sat on the shaded patio. She had just sat down opposite him when they heard Rayna's voice through the window overlooking the back yard. Tandy picked up her glass and sipped on it, watching her father's face as he listened. She could see the darkness covering his eyes and his jaw was steel hard. His hand was tight around the glass, so tight that Tandy was afraid he would break it with the force. Suddenly he slammed the glass down on the table and Tandy jumped.

"Why the hell does that girl do this?" he growled angrily. "Why can't she be into cheering on the football team or going to dances or all the things other girls do?"

Tandy knew it was really a rhetorical question and that she should keep her mouth shut, but she also knew that music was what made her sister happy. And in the aftermath of their mother's death, Rayna, most of all, had struggled with the loss. Her music let her feel close to their mother and, quite honestly, she really was good at it. "Daddy, she loves it. Why can't you just be happy that she's doing that and not doing drugs or sleeping with boys?"

Lamar scowled at his daughter. "That kind of life will do nothing but hurt her. Destroy her. She's not tough enough to survive that business. She'd be better off doing something more….appropriate." He picked up his glass again, but didn't drink from it.

Tandy looked at him with surprise. "She's a lot stronger than you give her credit for, Daddy. She's a lot like you, in fact. She has a good head on her shoulders and she can stand up for herself."

Lamar shook his head. "I will not allow her to pursue this…this foolishness. Not as long as she's living in my house." He put his glass down on the table again with some force. Then he stood and pointed his finger at Tandy. "Don't you be helping her, Tandy. I won't stand for it." He turned and stormed off.

Tandy sat back and shook her head.

_Yes, I lost my little darlin' the night they were playing / The beautiful Tennessee Waltz / They were playing the waltz on the night I lost my love_

_She has such a beautiful voice._ Tandy smiled to herself, thinking that she definitely would help Rayna achieve her dream, if that was what it took. In fact, she was taking Rayna to an open mic night the next weekend, because she knew Lamar wouldn't take her.

* * *

"Rayna! Rayna! Wait up!"

Rayna stopped and turned towards the voice calling after her. She smiled at her friend Lisa. "Hey girl!" she called back. She waited for Lisa to catch up and they linked elbows and continued to walk down the hall of the Harpeth Hall School.

"So what's on your agenda for the weekend, Rayna? Or need I ask?" Lisa winked at her friend.

Rayna giggled. "You're too funny, girl. Another open mic on Saturday. But then I hit the big time because I'm doing the Bluebird on Monday! I'm actually getting on stage!"

"Sweet! But how are you getting Idi Amin to let you out on a school night?"

Rayna rolled her eyes at the mention of their code name for her father. "You know. Tandy's helping me. Plus it worked out so perfect. Idi has a business trip, so I'm staying with Tandy till Wednesday."

"So you're going to sing one of your songs this time?"

Rayna did a little dance. "Yes! I have to. That's the rule at the Bluebird. What I'm really worried about is playing the guitar." She made a face. "Because you know that's not my best instrument."

"Oh, don't worry. You'll be great. You have such a beautiful voice. I just know you're going to be a country superstar one day. You'll be Female Vocalist of the Year before you know it."

Rayna smiled and then sighed. "You're the only person I can talk to about this. Well, except for Tandy. Nobody else gets it."

Lisa shrugged. "Hey, whatever floats your boat, ya know?"

Rayna knew Lisa wasn't a big country music fan, but she appreciated the fact that Lisa humored her. She saw her sister Tandy get out of her convertible and wave. "There's Tandy. Gotta run!" And she ran down the steps and the sisters jumped in the car headed for Tandy's apartment.

* * *

Rayna loved Tandy's apartment near Vanderbilt. She visited every chance she had. Since their mother's death, Lamar Wyatt had been a grouchy bear to live with. When Tandy was still at home it had been easier. She deflected some of the anger that Lamar seemed to harbor towards Rayna, for reasons Rayna didn't understand. But since Tandy had left for college, life at home was miserable for Rayna. She and Lamar battled constantly. He didn't understand her interest in music and belittled her efforts to sing and play. Although she had been too young to truly understand, Rayna did realize that her parents' marriage was strained and wondered if the fact that she looked so much like her mother was part of the problem. Tandy tried to help Rayna when she could, to allow her sister to work on her music, away from the ferocity of their father's rage.

Rayna really appreciated that Tandy helped her with getting to open mic nights. Rayna researched every place in town and had long lists of places to go. She would plan out her calendar and then practice her songs. People seemed to like her and she always got a positive response. There were times when she wondered how long it would take to really get noticed and how many places she'd have to play. She knew the odds were against her, but she was determined. It just took one time for someone important to hear her.

Getting to play an open mic at the Bluebird was at the top of her list and she was beyond excited about the opportunity. She had worked up two songs for her turn on the stage. She wasn't that confident in the music but she hoped she could sell it anyway. Tandy had checked her out of school early on Monday so she could get ready. When she got to the Bluebird, she thought was going to throw up. She was so nervous.

The Bluebird was the mecca for songwriters and singers. It was a tiny little place and the stage was so close to the tables that you felt right on top of the audience. She loved the little white lights around the bar and the stage. There was a cozy feel to the place that helped to settle her nerves.

She waited patiently for her turn. When she was finally announced, she felt quivers of excitement run through her. She sought out Tandy in the audience and focused on her. Tandy smiled encouragingly and that helped a lot. She had a shaky start, but then she started to gain confidence and was feeling more comfortable. When she finished the first song, there was enthusiastic applause and that helped her settle down a bit more. She smiled happily as she soaked in the applause. Then she launched into her second song and suddenly it was over. The applause again was enthusiastic and she didn't want to step off the stage. She knew this was what she was meant to do and she was determined to do it.

As she and Tandy were leaving, a tall man with salt and pepper hair stopped them. "Rayna?" he said.

She turned to look at him. She had an odd sense that she'd seen him before but couldn't really place him. "Yes, sir?" she responded.

He had a kind face and when he smiled, his eyes crinkled. "Rayna, you really have a lovely voice," he said. "I think you really have a future as a recording artist."

Rayna breathed in. "Really? You think so?" She could feel Tandy behind her, grabbing on to her arm protectively.

"I do." He let out a short laugh. "I'm sorry, I should introduce myself. My name is Watty White and I'm a record producer here in town."

Rayna's eyes got huge. "You are?" she choked out.

He smiled kindly and reached in his pocket for a business card, which he handed to her. "You should call me. I can put you in touch with some booking people and we'll see if we can get you some paying dates. And we should also set up a time for you to do a demo."

"Are you serious?" Rayna was still in shock.

He nodded and smiled again. "Yes, I'm serious. But, you either need to improve your songwriting and playing skills or I'm going to need to find you someone to help with both. The playing at least."

Rayna blushed. "Yeah, I'm not that great on the guitar. I've been practicing forever though."

"Well, some people have it and some people don't. I think I can find you someone that can be your guitar player." He took Rayna's hand and held it between his. "So call me. Soon."

Rayna nodded. "I will," she said softly. And then he turned and walked out the door. Rayna slowly turned to look at Tandy, whose eyes were wide with surprise. "Oh my God, Tandy," she whispered.

Tandy pushed her towards the door. "Let's go," she said. When they got outside in the parking lot, Rayna stopped and turned back to her sister.

"Oh my God, Tandy," she said again, a huge smile splitting her face. "I'm going to be a country music star!"


	6. A Teeny Teeny Tiny Thing

Deacon was on the phone when Rayna came in from the store. "I wanna come down soon and see her," he was saying. "We'll figure it out and let you know." Rayna gave him a puzzled look. "Talk to you soon." And then he hung up.

She put the bag down on the corner and looked at him questioningly. "Who was that?"

"It was Doug." Rayna shrugged. "My brother-in-law. Beverly's husband," Deacon explained.

"Oh, oh, okay." Her face broke into a smile then. "Oh, the baby! She had the baby?"

"Yeah. A little girl."

Rayna got a dreamy look on her face. "Oh, Deacon, a little girl. Oh, that's just so great. A little girl." She smiled to herself, then looked over at Deacon who was eying her oddly. "What?"

"You're acting all sappy sweet."

She practically hopped over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. "Oh, Deacon, babies are always so precious and cute. They have such soft skin and they smell so nice. And a little girl."

Deacon pulled back a little and looked at her solemnly. "What, do you want a baby?"

"Who, me?" Rayna made a face and waved her hand. "No, of course not. Not now, anyway. But babies are cute." She smiled again. "What did they name her?"

Deacon got a blank look on his face. "I, uh, I don't know. I forgot to ask."

"Deacon, shame on you. Your own niece and you didn't even ask what her name is. Oh, well, we'll find out. When are we going to see her?"

Deacon shrugged. "Whenever you want, I guess." He kissed her. "Are you sure you want to spend time with Beverly?" he teased. Beverly was jealous of Rayna, Deacon knew. She had wanted to be a singer, but she'd been afraid to leave Mississippi and her boyfriend. But that didn't stop her from blaming Rayna for taking what she thought should have been hers. And Rayna, well, Rayna didn't put up with crap from anyone, even Deacon's sister. She was always polite and never took the bait when Beverly sniped at her. She just saved it up and blew off all her steam to Deacon after they'd leave. He was not really looking forward to that. Even for his brand new niece.

"I'm not really going to see Beverly. I'd be going to see the baby. I'll just tune out Beverly." She walked back to her grocery bag and started pulling things out and putting them away. "So we need to get to rehearsal soon. We can talk about all that later."

Deacon nodded. "Later's good," he said and went to get his guitar.

* * *

Deacon lay on his back, Rayna pulled against him. He lazily ran his fingers down her arm as she ran hers over his chest. He cleared his throat and Rayna moved her head to look up at him. "What, babe?" she asked.

"Uh, Beverly called today. Wanting to know when we were coming to visit." He had hesitated bringing it up. He wasn't looking forward to the dynamic between the two women.

Rayna grinned. "We should go! Did you find out the baby's name?"

"Scarlett," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Scarlett! Oh, Deacon, that's a pretty name." She swatted him lightly on the arm.

"It's stupid, Ray. She named her after her favorite character in a damn movie. It might be a cute name for a little girl, but what about when she's a grown up? Or when she's an old lady? Why couldn't Beverly have given her a normal name?"

Rayna winked at him. "You mean something normal like 'Rayna'? Or 'Tandy'? Like those made up names?"

Deacon smirked and then kissed her on the forehead. "I can't speak for 'Tandy', but 'Rayna' is a beautiful name." He moved his hand to her chin and tilted her head up so that he could kiss her. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady." Then he grinned and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her on top of him. "A beautiful lady, with the sexiest body and the hottest hoo ha in town."

Rayna laughed out loud and then covered his mouth with her own, kissing him passionately, and letting him run his hands over her, turning her on in that way he always did. When she had finally laid her head on his chest, her legs straddling his, she said quietly, "Let's go see Scarlett, babe. I want to hold that baby."

Deacon wrapped his arms around her. "How about tomorrow?" Rayna nodded her head and he lay there, content, his eyes closed.

* * *

When Deacon turned on the road that led to Doug and Beverly's house, he looked over at Rayna. "Don't let her get to you, okay, Ray?" he said.

Rayna crossed her arms and sighed. Then she looked at him. "I'm gonna just focus on that baby."

"We won't stay long. And I got us a room for tonight so we got someplace to go."

She smiled. "You're so good to me, babe." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Just don't leave me with her, okay?"

"I won't." He wasn't really worried about Rayna and Beverly together. He knew Rayna could hold her own, but Beverly could be mean and hateful. She still hadn't quite forgiven Deacon for leaving for Nashville without her. Although, as he'd told Rayna, there was nothing holding her there except for the hope that Doug would marry her and get her out of their family situation. He'd never told Rayna much about his parents, his father. They had both died before he'd met Rayna and, since it was a painful subject, he'd glossed over it when she'd asked.

They pulled into the drive of the small frame shotgun house. As they got out of the truck, Beverly came to the door. She looked a little disheveled, probably from taking care of the baby. When she opened the door, they could hear the baby's plaintive cries from inside. "Glad y'all could finally make it," she said. She looked at Rayna when she said it, as though it was her doing that kept them from getting there sooner.

Deacon took Rayna's hand and she squeezed it appreciatively. "Good to see you too, Beverly," he said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Beverly smirked. She held the door open for them. "Come on in and meet Scarlett then," she said.

Rayna gave her a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she walked into the house. She looked around. Not surprisingly, it was a mess. She guessed some of it was the fact that the baby was there now and took up a lot of time, but Beverly had never been the best housekeeper. "Where's Scarlett?" she asked.

Beverly motioned with her head towards the back of the room. "In that little crib there. She's been fussy all damn day long, so don't be surprised if she is cranky."

"Oh, it's okay." Rayna hurried over to the crib and looked down at the baby. She smiled at the tiny girl, wearing a little pink onesie and waving her arms around. She had little tufts of blonde hair and the sweetest little face. Rayna turned to Beverly. "May I pick her up?"

Beverly waved her hand. "Sure. Just be careful with her."

Rayna turned back and rolled her eyes. Silently she told Scarlett how sorry she was that she'd grow up with this. She leaned down and carefully put one hand under the baby's head and the other under her tiny bottom and then lifted her up, holding her close to her chest. She opened her eyes wide and made a little face at the baby. "Hey there, Miss Scarlett," she said softly. "You're such a tiny little thing, aren't you?" Unexpectedly she felt herself tear up and she blinked hard. She felt a yearning she hadn't expected either. She found herself wondering what hers and Deacon's baby would look like. She knew she wasn't ready for a baby yet, but she wondered how much longer it would be before they'd feel ready for this.

Deacon walked up behind her and put his hands on her hips and looked over her shoulder. "So this is Scarlett, huh?" he said.

Rayna looked back at him and smiled. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"She is."

Rayna peered around Deacon to Beverly. "Beverly, she's just precious."

Beverly gave them a wan smile. "Yeah, well, you're not with her 24/7. She cries, she poops, she's constantly hungry. That's what you get with a baby. It's what they don't tell you." She shook her head.

Deacon could feel Rayna stiffen. "Don't," he whispered.

She turned and looked up at him. "You should hold her," she said, smiling at him.

Deacon backed away, fear in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. I don't think I'm a baby person."

Rayna smiled at him encouragingly. "Ah, come on, you can do it." She gestured towards the couch with her head. "Sit down and I'll hand her to you." She grinned at the frightened look on his face. "Come on. You can do it."

Deacon knew that he wasn't going to get out of it, plus he'd do anything for Rayna. So he sat down on the couch and she came over and knelt on one knee on the edge of the couch. "See how I'm holding her? One arm under her head and the other around her?" She looked at him. "See?"

Deacon nodded. "Yeah. I see."

"Well, I'm going to hand her to you and I want you to hold her like that." She leaned in and placed Scarlett carefully in his arms, then moved his arms slightly so that he held her right. She ran her finger lightly over the baby's cheek and then squeezed Deacon's arm gently. He looked up at her with a terrified look on his face. She laughed. "You're doing great," she said. She stood up and started to back off.

"Don't leave me, Ray," he said.

She laughed again. "I'm not going anywhere. You're doing fine, babe."

She walked over and stood next to Beverly, both of them watching Deacon hold Scarlett. After a few minutes, he seemed to get more comfortable with her and he smiled down at the baby, murmuring to her quietly. She felt a little teary again until Beverly opened her mouth.

"I'm surprised you let him come down here," she said, her voice low so her brother wouldn't hear.

Rayna frowned for a second, then took a deep breath and smoothed out her expression. "We both wanted to come and see Scarlett, Beverly," she said. She looked around. "Where's Doug?"

Beverly made a noise. "Down at the bar. Can't be bothered to help me out with her." She looked up at Rayna and scowled. "I still hold it against Deacon for not letting me come with him to Nashville. It could have been me starting a singing career."

Rayna started to say something, but changed her mind. Deacon was right. Beverly would never accept that it was her own actions that kept her in Natchez and not anything Rayna had done. She turned her attention back to Deacon. As she watched him with Scarlett, she thought, _He's going to make a wonderful father one day. I can't wait to see him with our baby._

As though Beverly were reading Rayna's mind, she said, "So when are you going to make an honest man out of my brother? Or is he just your white trash plaything until you go back to your debutante ways?"

Rayna took in a sharp breath and then snagged Beverly's arm and pulled her into the kitchen. She could see Deacon's eyes narrow as he watched them. When they were out of view and earshot, Rayna got in Beverly's face and said, her voice low and steely, "Don't you _ever_ think that I don't love Deacon with all my heart. What we do with our lives is none of your business and how we choose to live is _our_ decision. Deacon is the man I plan to be with for the rest of my life and anything other than that is none of your concern. Do you hear me?" Beverly said nothing, just glared at Rayna. "You know nothing about me, Beverly. So don't you _dare_ presume to know what I'm going to do." She breathed in and out. "I'm going back out there and I don't want another smart comment out of you, do you hear me?"

Beverly looked away. Rayna turned on her heel and walked back out of the kitchen. Deacon looked up when she came out and gave her a questioning look. She just smiled at him and came to sit next to him, reaching in to take Scarlett's tiny hand.

"You okay, Ray?" he asked quietly.

Rayna wiggled Scarlett's hand and made a little face at the baby and smiled. "We should probably go," she said in a pleasant voice, not taking her eyes off Scarlett.

* * *

Rayna was silent on the short ride to the motel. She sat in the truck while Deacon went in to get the key. When they got to the room and got out of the truck, he looked at her with worry on his face. Once they got in the room, he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, his face against her hair. She put her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry, babe," she said, her voice muffled.

"What did she say?"

Rayna pulled away from him and walked over and sat on the bed. She clasped her hands in her lap and breathed in slowly. "She accused me of just using you as a plaything," she said, tears pricking her eyes.

Deacon walked over and sat on the bed next to her. "You know I know that's not true," he said.

She looked at him, her eyes full of sorrow. "Do you? Do you really?" She bit her lip. "I love you so much, Deacon."

He reached for her, pulling her into his embrace. "I do know, baby. And I love you too."

"But you do always tell me how I'm too good for you, like where I come from makes a difference." She pulled back and looked in his eyes, searching for some kind of truth there. "I need you to know that when Daddy kicked me out, I left that behind forever. That's not who I am. It was never who I was."

Deacon looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "I do know that, baby. I really do. When I tell you that, it's more about me than it is about you. But, I'll promise you never to say it again."

Rayna smiled at him. "If I didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't. You're part of me. I knew that when I first met you." Her smile then got playful. "You looked really good holding Scarlett. I think I fell in love with you a little more, watching you hold that little girl." She leaned in and kissed him. "You're going to be a good daddy one day, Deacon Claybourne."

A chill ran through Deacon as he listened to her say that. It wasn't that he didn't want a family with Rayna one day, because he wanted nothing more, but he was really afraid he didn't know how to be a good father. His own experience had been so horrific. But he didn't want to say that to Rayna. So instead he said, "I would love your babies, Rayna. So much."

She leaned into him. "One day we'll do that. Not now, but one day."

Deacon moved to take her face in his hands and kissed her, first gently, then more insistently. She responded, leaning into him, running her hands over his back. Then he pulled back from the kiss and began to undress her and before long, they were joined together in their need and desire for each other, Beverly's unkind words forgotten.


	7. Record Deal

Rayna and Deacon were at lunch when the call came. It was a crisp, sunny fall afternoon and they had treated themselves to lunch at a burger place in East Nashville. Rayna looked at Deacon carefully, frowning just slightly. He was practically inhaling his burger. She looked at the cut above his right eyebrow and the bruise starting to show around his eye.

"That cut looks better today than it did last night," she said, picking at the fries on her plate. "I was worried with all the blood last night."

Deacon looked up at her. He saw concern and worry on her face and it made his heart hurt. He loved her so much and he knew he'd disappointed her. And he didn't want to fight with her. He hated fighting with her. He finished chewing and swallowed. "It's not bothering me," he said. "I think I'll live." He gave her a small smile.

She smiled back and her face softened. She didn't like fighting either. She reached out for his hand and rubbed his thumb with her own. "That's a relief," she said. "I don't think I could go on without you, babe."

Deacon sighed. "I'm sorry about last night, baby. About all of it."

Rayna kept rubbing his hand. "I know." She took a breath and let it out. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, because I don't want to encourage you to do this on a regular basis, but I actually kind of love how protective you are of me." She gave him a teasing smile. "You're my hero."

Deacon let out a little sigh of relief and smiled at her. "You're the best thing I've ever had in my life, Ray. I just love you so much. And I just want to take care of you." He worked his lip a moment. "But I get what you mean that I don't own you."

Rayna smiled at him encouragingly. "I'm sorry about that, babe. I knew what you meant but I was kind of scared, I guess. We _do_ belong to each other. I don't want it any other way."

He squeezed her hand and then released it, going back to his burger. Rayna watched him as she nibbled on French fries. Her heart felt full with love for him. When she thought about what had happened the night before, it really was just that she was afraid he'd get hurt.

* * *

They'd had a free night, no gig, so Rayna and Deacon had gone out to a local bar with Vince and Carmen. Vince was in her band, when he wasn't trying to get "discovered", and he and Deacon had become fast friends and drinking buddies. Rayna worried about how much influence Vince had, because it seemed to her that Deacon was drunk more often and it was occasionally causing problems at gigs. Carmen was Vince's on-again, off-again girlfriend. When the four of them would go out, usually she and Carmen went light on the drinking so that they could get the guys home safely. This night had been no different.

Rayna had been worried about Deacon that night. He was drinking shots of cheap whiskey and was turning into the belligerent jerk he usually became when that happened. She'd tried to get him to stop, but he'd glared at her and told her he was fine.

She'd let it go, knowing it was pointless to push, plus she didn't want to get into a nasty fight at the bar. She usually comforted herself with the knowledge that, to this point, he hadn't let things go beyond messing up on stage a few times and even then he was able to recover. It worried her some, because she thought he drank too much, but he wasn't drunk all the time, so it wasn't like he was an alcoholic or anything.

The trouble started when she was returning from the restroom. As she was passing the bar, a man stepped out in front of her.

"Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?"

Rayna had smiled and shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm with some people." She always tried to be nice to people, no matter where she was. You never knew when they might be the fans who bought your records or went to your concerts someday.

But the man persisted. "Ah, come on, you pretty thing. Just one drink." He'd put his hand on her side, just below her bra line and she had felt his thumb rub the underside of her breast. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, Deacon bolt out of the booth, and before she could react, he'd grabbed the man's arm, whipped him around, and hit him in the face.

"Deacon!" she screamed, but it had turned into a brawl, with the two men knocking over tables and chairs. When the two were finally pulled apart, Deacon had a cut over his eye that was streaming blood down his face, and bruises on his knuckles. Rayna had picked up her purse and reached for his arm. "Let's go, babe," she said.

Deacon had pulled against her grip, shouting at the other man. "You stay off her!" he yelled. "She belongs to _me_! _Mine!_ Stay the fuck away from her!"

Rayna felt a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Deacon, let's go," she said more firmly. He stood his ground for a moment, then let her pull him out of the bar. She'd gotten him in the truck and drove home, not saying a word.

When they got back to the apartment, she'd thrown her purse on the kitchen table and whirled around to face him, hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with anger. "I'm _not_ a piece of property, Deacon," she said loudly.

Deacon scowled. "So you wanted him to maul you? He had his hand on your damn boob, Rayna," he shouted. "No way I'm letting someone paw at you."

"You can't keep doing this. Getting drunk like this and starting fights and missing practices. It's got to stop."

Deacon swung at the air. "I'm not letting some jackass put his hands all over you, Ray!"

"And I don't need you getting into fights with people, Deacon!" she cried and turned to go in the bedroom.

Deacon quickly crossed over to her and grabbed her arm. "It's my job to take care of you. You _do_ belong to me, Ray, and I'm gonna do what I have to."

Rayna scowled and shook him off, storming into the bedroom. She had stalked into the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her teeth. She changed into shorts and a t-shirt and got into bed. Her heart was still pounding and she was still angry about Deacon thinking of her as his property. But she couldn't fall asleep.

When Deacon finally came to bed, he stripped down and lay on his side of the bed, his back to her. She could smell the whiskey. Suddenly he turned towards her and pulled her close and they'd had angry sex. Rayna always regretted the angry sex because it was never anything more than satisfying a need. Sometimes she'd wish she was strong enough to turn him away at times like that, but even when she was mad, she craved the feel of him on her and, most of all, inside her. She needed him, had to have him, maybe then more than any other time, when they could reassure each other than even in the worst of times, they were still connected at the soul.

She had laid there for a long time afterwards, listening to his sounds of sick in the bathroom, knowing he'd end up crashing on the cool floor. Tears had quietly rolled down her face as she thought about how much she loved him and how worried she was about him.

* * *

But now, looking across the table at him, he looked more at peace, despite the cuts and bruises. She had found him sprawled naked on the bathroom floor that morning. She sat next to him and cleaned up the cut and smoothed his hair and then, when he woke, had held him in her arms in spite of the sour, sick smell on him. She hated that, wanted it to stop. She wanted this Deacon, the one sitting across the table from her, all the time.

He had finished his burger and wiped his mouth, then took a long drag of sweet tea. He looked at her. "I wish you'd hear something about a contract. It's taking too damn long." Watty had put together a demo for her, and Bucky Dawes, her manager, was shopping it at all the labels in town. Even with the George Strait tour on her resume, the bigger labels hadn't wanted to take the chance, so he was trying the smaller, independent labels. She was still seen as too much of an unknown. She was getting frustrated and worried.

Rayna sighed and looked down at her plate. "Yeah, me too. Watty thought we had a really good shot," she said quietly. She really didn't want to think about it. She wanted to just enjoy the day with Deacon, maybe go down on Broadway and kill some time. All thoughts of that went out of her head, though, when her phone rang and she saw it was Bucky. She looked up at Deacon, her eyes wide. "It's Bucky," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"Well, answer it, Ray!" he said, with a hopeful look on his face.

"Rayna?" Bucky said when she answered. "You've got yourself a record deal."


	8. How Songs Get Written

The next several weeks were going to be busy for Rayna, as she had a number of dates scheduled at venues all around Tennessee. She was still singing mostly in bars and small clubs, and was performing at least four or five nights a week. She'd recorded several demos, but nothing was gaining traction, either at radio stations or with labels. Watty had told her that she needed think more seriously about collaborating with Deacon, that it would improve her chances. She had balked at that for a number of reasons. First, she wanted to make it on her own merits. And second, she was already concerned that she was holding Deacon back from his own solo aspirations and felt that writing together would create a scenario where he would feel he could never try. She had let him give her feedback and suggestions and she had to admit they helped. But she'd been noodling the idea, wondering if it was the right thing to do.

She folded the dish towel in her hand and hung it over a cabinet door. She smiled to herself, thinking how much she actually enjoyed straightening up the apartment. Growing up in Belle Meade, she'd never had to clean house or do laundry or cook, although she was responsible for keeping her room picked up. She frowned for a moment thinking about Lamar's snide comment to her about "playing house", as though this were just a lark for her. But it wasn't. She loved making a home for herself and Deacon, a place for them to call their own. They'd been living together for about a year and she loved their rhythm and the ease of life together. It had been all good.

She went to sit on the couch with Deacon, who was working on a song. He smiled when she sat down, but kept alternately writing, then working on chords. Rayna sat back and watched him, a smile on her face. She loved this. She loved being able to watch him work. _We have such a good life. It really is a life that's good, like that song he wrote._

When he put down his guitar finally, he leaned in to kiss her. "Hey, baby," he said with a smile.

She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. "Hey," she responded. "That really sounded good."

He shrugged. "It still needs work. But, you know, I feel like if I don't get 'em out, I'll lose 'em."

Rayna looked thoughtful. She scooched over closer to him, putting her arms around his waist and throwing one leg over his lap. "What if we tried writing together?"

Deacon raised his eyebrows in surprise and then smiled. "Really?" He was happy she asked. Watty had been bugging him for a while to do it, but he'd known that if he pushed her, Rayna would say no. She was so stubborn and so independent. She wanted to do things herself and she was very driven, things he loved and admired about her. He had to force himself not to interfere, not to offer his suggestions unless she asked, although, he acknowledged to himself, he knew she needed some guidance. She had some nice lyrics, but they were disjointed when she tried to cobble together a song. And her music. Well, he knew he could help her, but he'd just been waiting for her to ask.

Rayna shrugged. "Yeah, you know, Watty keeps asking me about it, so I thought maybe we should try it. See how it goes."

Deacon nodded. "So, do you have something you want to start with or do you want to start from scratch?" he asked.

Rayna thought about that. "I kind of have an idea, I guess, but maybe a little of both?"

"Okay. So what's your idea?"

"Leaving home. Changing my life. Moving on." She felt nervous, both about the idea of writing with someone and sharing her innermost thoughts. Although this was Deacon, after all, so how scary could it be? It wasn't like he didn't know most of her hopes and fears anyway.

"Do you have a title?"

"Do I need one now? Don't you come up with that after you're done?"

He shook his head. "Not necessarily. And you don't have to have one now. But sometimes it helps frame up the song." He picked up his notebook. "We can start with the lyrics. Usually I write a verse, then the chorus, then another verse, chorus again, maybe another verse, then a chorus or a bridge, and finish with a chorus."

Rayna looked puzzled. "It's that structured?"

He nodded. "Usually. It's how people like to hear music. If you listen to songs, you'll hear most of them set up that way."

"Wow. I had no idea. No wonder my songs aren't so good. I'm not doing that." She smiled at him. "I've learned a lot already and we haven't even written a thing."

He leaned in and kissed her. "It's going to be fun." He handed her the notepad. "Let's start with the chorus."

* * *

Rayna was surprised at how much she enjoyed writing with Deacon. Of course it didn't hurt that when they finally came up with the perfect chorus, he put down his guitar and slid his hands up under her top, pushing up her bra and fondling and teasing her breasts until she could hardly breathe. Then he pushed her back and slid his tongue up from her stomach to her nipples, sucking them gently as she writhed beneath him.

When they finished the verses, he ran his hand up her leg and under her skirt, moving her panties aside as he slid two fingers inside her and leaned into her to kiss her, teasing her with his touch. And then when they put it all together and set it to music, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, slowly undressing her and then, once he was undressed, he used his fingers and his lips to take her right to the edge of bliss and then pushed into her as the waves of pleasure rolled over her. Then when they were both spent and laying entangled in each other's arms, Deacon kissed her forehead and said, "And that, baby, is how songs are written."

Rayna turned and looked up at him, pure contentment all over her face. "I think I'm going to like this writing songs together thing, then." She smiled. "Do we get to do this every time?"

Deacon put his other arm around her and pulled her in close to him, kissing her hard on the mouth. "Every single time," he said. He kissed her again. "God, you're amazing, Ray."

She slid her hand up his back and then along his arm. "You are too, babe. This just never gets old."

He smiled at her, then started gently kissing her. As the kisses got more intense, they started moving their hands over each other, and then they celebrated their first writing collaboration all over again.

* * *

Rayna woke up and realized it was dark out. Deacon wasn't in bed next to her, but she could hear him in the living room. She recognized the notes he was playing as the music they'd written that afternoon, but she couldn't quite make out all the words. She wrapped the sheet around her and padded softly out of the bedroom. Deacon looked up at her and smiled. "Hey, Ray," he said. "I've got an idea on how to end this. Listen." She sat on the coffee table. Deacon played and sang the bridge and then the final chorus.

_It's a long, long road to independence / But I'm leaving you for Tennessee / I got demons riding shotgun, telling me not to go / But what they don't know / Is I'm already gone / I'm already gone... _And then he gave it a hard ending with a chord sequence. When he was done he looked at her.

"I like it," she said with a smile. But then suddenly her smile faded.

Deacon frowned. "What is it, baby?"

Rayna breathed in. She looked a little uncomfortable. "It's just…." She wrung her hands and looked down. "I don't know. It's just, I guess, different from what I thought it would be. The lyrics, I mean. It's like, it's not completely my words."

Deacon was silent for a moment. "You're right," he said finally. "It's _our_ words. It's _our_ song. Not just yours or mine, but ours. That's what writing together will be like, Ray. It'll be both our experiences and we'll create something that people will respond to, want to listen to." His voice was quiet.

Rayna took a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Her voice had a disappointed sound to it.

Deacon looked at her carefully. "Do you not want to do this?" he asked softly.

She looked away. Then she turned back and shook her head slowly. "I love writing with you, Deacon. It was amazing. And our song is amazing." She shrugged. "I guess I thought I was going to do this all on my own. I was going to show Daddy he was wrong about this. About me. I just didn't realize it would be so hard to do it all alone."

He worked his lip as he looked at her. She seemed so young and vulnerable then. He'd forgotten that. She was so strong-willed and determined, savvy beyond her years, that he'd forgotten she was not long out of her sheltered, pampered Belle Meade life. He reached for her and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, snuggled up against him. "You don't have to prove anything to Lamar," he said. "If he doesn't believe in you, then that's on him. You're going to be a star, Ray, I know that. One day, not too far off, you'll have a gold record and a headline tour and you'll leave Lamar Wyatt in your dust." He lightly kissed the top of her head. "This is just the beginning for you, baby."

She moved so she could look up at him. "For both of us," she said with a smile. "I couldn't do this without you, Deacon. You're all I've got."

He smiled back and hugged her tight. "I'm all you'll ever need," he said.

She sat back, the post-song glow back on her face. "Can we sing it again? Together? With the new ending?"

* * *

When they finished, they looked at each other and felt a sense of pride at what they'd created. Rayna felt that little snake of desire deep in her core. Deacon put aside his guitar, not taking his eyes off her, feeling that same need rising up through his body. He reached for her hand and pulled her, giggling, back to the bedroom where they celebrated all over again.

* * *

They went on to write countless songs together and Rayna proved to be a good student, able to write songs on her own that she was proud of. But that first song they wrote together – "Already Gone" – had a special place in her heart and was forever her favorite collaboration with Deacon.


	9. Sweet Dreams

Rayna felt tongue-tied. That usually didn't happen to her. One thing she had learned from growing up in Belle Meade society was how to talk to people. Small talk came easy to her. Especially with someone her own age, or nearly so. But the butterflies in her stomach were making it hard for her to think straight. She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands. Her mind was a complete and total blank.

"What?" Deacon asked her. He wasn't being challenging. He just sounded curious.

She cut her eyes over to him and then looked out the windshield. "Nothing," she said.

"Oh, I just thought you were getting ready to say something."

She shook her head. _God, why is this so hard?_ Watty White had introduced her to Deacon Claybourne three weeks ago. He had told her she needed a guitar player, after he had told her in the gentlest way possible that she was not very good at it. Which she knew. He told her Deacon was young but had a magic touch on the guitar and he wanted them to work together. When she had looked in Deacon's eyes, she had felt electricity between them. She felt like someone had stolen her breath. He left her weak in the knees and she'd had a weird sensation down there that she'd never had before. He was gorgeous. Shaggy dark hair that fell a little across his forehead. Clear blue eyes. The hint of facial hair. He was slender but muscular and his hands looked strong. He was wearing a brown t-shirt and well-worn jeans that hugged his body. His boots were dusty and well-scuffed. She had fallen in love with him almost immediately.

She could tell that he liked her. That maybe he didn't want to, but he did. They practiced together almost every day. He would pick her up at school and they would go to Watty's studio and work on her music for an hour or two and then Watty would drive her home. She could see from the look on his face that he was interested in her. But she was pretty sure he was afraid to approach her. She had very little experience with boys, since most of the boys at Montgomery Bell Academy thought she was weird for liking country music. But Deacon Claybourne was definitely not a boy. She would watch him when he wasn't looking, admiring his hands on the guitar, wondering what it would feel like to have those hands touching her. She wanted to run her hands down his back, run her fingers through his hair. She blushed.

She and Tandy had spent many nights, while Tandy was still living at home, watching romance movies on TV and on video. Rayna read all kinds of romance novels and her favorites were the ones with the explicit sex scenes, what Tandy called "gothic porn". And then there were Tandy's sex books. Tandy had every kind of how-to book imaginable, it seemed like. Sometimes they would lock themselves in Tandy's room and pore over them, laughing at the pictures. Rayna didn't really understand them completely, but she was intrigued when she looked at them. She had no idea what had happened to them after Tandy left. But she still liked watching love story movies and she had a pretty idealized version of romance and lovemaking and what went on between a man and a woman.

"So, I was wondering if you'd be interested in some of my thoughts about your song," Deacon said.

Rayna was startled out of her reverie. "Um, what?" she asked and turned to look at him. She felt her heart race a little as she looked at him.

"Your song. 'Cumberland Girl'. I've been thinking about a bridge you could add to that."

"Why? I thought it was fine."

Deacon shrugged. "It just sort of sounds kind of like you're rushing it. Hurrying to get to the end. You know what I mean?"

Rayna opened her mouth, but then shut it. Deacon had played a couple of his songs for her and they were really good. Maybe she should listen. "But I thought you liked it."

He nodded. "I do. But I think it needs a little something else. A bridge, to add a little something before you do your run to the end." He shrugged again. "But it's your song. Just a suggestion."

Rayna thought about that for a minute. "Well, do you think you could work on it a little so you can show me what you mean?" she said, finally.

"Yeah. I can do that. But you don't have to do it if you don't like it."

Rayna smiled. "I know. But I bet I will like it."

Deacon smiled back at her, then looked back out the windshield. He always felt like he was kind of losing his mind a little around Rayna Wyatt. The moment he'd laid eyes on her, he'd been smitten. But it was different than the way he'd felt about other women. It felt more…permanent, somehow. He didn't really know how to describe it, other than he'd felt a sense of peace around her. Like she was a puzzle piece he hadn't realized was missing from his life. As they had spent time together, he'd fallen head over heels in love with her. But he kept a respectable distance. If it had been any other woman, he'd have taken her to bed immediately. Rayna was different though. First of all, she was young. A lot younger than he'd thought she was. Just sixteen. And then she was so refined. She was a debutante type, high society girl. Certainly out of reach for a Mississippi farm boy like him, with hardly two nickels to rub together, under normal circumstances.

He thought she liked him though. He'd catch her sometimes looking at him and the look in her eyes was one of longing. When she'd lay her hand on his arm, she always left it just a little longer than was necessary. He'd noticed that she'd started dressing a little more carefully, wearing her tight jeans that played up her long lean legs and her tight little ass, and little t-shirts that showed off her very nice boobs. He wasn't sure how experienced she was, but she sure did have bedroom eyes behind those thick lashes. He would never have dared make a move on her though, because he knew she was completely out of his league. He was just grateful to have the opportunity to spend time with her.

Just then he pulled up to the gate at the Wyatt mansion. Rayna smiled shyly and reached out to gently squeeze his arm, lingering there just a bit because she liked touching him. "Thanks, Deacon. For working with me today and…for looking at my song."

Deacon smiled back. "Anything for you, Ray." She gave him a quizzical look and he realized that he'd used a shortened version of her name, which seemed intimate somehow. "I…I'm sorry. I mean, Rayna."

She just smiled. "It's okay," she said. "I kinda like it." She opened the door of the truck. "Bye, Deacon. See you Friday." She hopped out and shut the door, standing at the end of the drive with her hand raised in farewell.

Deacon waved back, then slowly headed down the road. He totally and completely wanted her and didn't know what to do about that.

Rayna watched as the truck drove out of sight, then trudged up the driveway to the house. She opened the front door and started down the hall.

"Rayna!" her father's voice rang out.

Rayna froze. He was home early. She turned towards his voice, coming from his study. "Hey, Daddy," she said quietly.

Lamar slowly got up and walked over to the doorway. "Where've you been?"

"I, uh, I had a guitar lesson." That was close enough. There was guitar playing going on, for sure.

Lamar frowned. "I thought you'd stopped that." He narrowed his eyes. "And I don't see _your_ guitar, young lady."

Rayna blushed. "Well, you know, mine isn't all that great, so I'm using one that my, uh, teacher has." Deacon _had_ let her play a little on his guitar. Not today, but recently.

Lamar just looked at her for a moment. "Well, just don't forget your school work, young lady." And he turned to go back into his study.

Rayna let out the breath she'd been holding. "No, sir," she said and quickly ran for the stairs.

* * *

Rayna Wyatt was nothing if not determined. That was how she knew that one day she would become a country music star. It had kept her going through all the open mic nights. It had been the driving force after she'd met Watty White. She was a hard worker. People had told her that all her life. She liked to have fun, but she was serious about the things that mattered. And this mattered. She trusted Watty to develop her and find her the right people to help her achieve her goals. She sang every place she could get into. She worked hard on her songs.

Her next goal was to get a paying gig. Which meant creating a demo that could be used to market her. It had been more of a struggle than she'd thought to get the right sound down on track. They'd been working on it for several weeks now. Deacon tried helping her with her songs, but she'd been a little stubborn about using all his suggestions. She respected his talent – he had written some great stuff himself – but his sound wasn't necessarily her sound. Watty had tried to convince her to collaborate more with Deacon, but she'd dug her heels in. She was happy to let him be her guitar player, but she wasn't sure she wanted to write songs with someone.

After another stressful afternoon bickering with Watty about the songs, Rayna had collapsed on her bed after dinner. She wasn't sure she wanted Deacon writing songs with her, but she definitely did want Deacon. That was another thing that frustrated her. She had done everything she could to send him the message that she was interested, but he seemed to be holding back. She really didn't think he was _dis_interested, he just was not getting the message. She wasn't sure if that was on purpose or not, but she had decided she wanted him and she was going to go after him.

She daydreamed all the time about what it would be like to be with Deacon. She imagined them being in all the love scenes in the movies she'd watched or the books she'd read. She thought she had an idea of what being with a man might like and what maybe she could do to get him interested. She knew she'd still be inexperienced and awkward, more than likely, but she wanted him. She wanted him to be her first. And she didn't want to wait.

She pulled out one of her books that she had hidden under her mattress. The one with the most explicit sex scenes in it. She had marked all the pages and started going through them one by one, reading them slowly, then closing her eyes and imagining that it was Deacon doing all those things to her. As she read and let her imagination take off, she felt a heavy fullness between her legs. She felt tingling in her breasts. She felt heat radiating through her body and sensations she didn't fully understand. She felt strangely emboldened and yet shy at the same time. She was breathing hard. She tried to imagine what it would be like for Deacon's mouth to be on hers, for his tongue to lick her nipples. When she thought about what it would be like for him to make love to her, the fullness she felt seemed to radiate through her. It was a strange, but pleasant feeling and she found herself wondering if that would be what it felt like.

Rayna was feeling things she'd never felt before. Had never really thought about before. She had never met a boy that she thought about in quite the same way. She reached up and turned out the bedside lamp and laid on her side, her eyes wide open, wondering what she could do to get Deacon Claybourne interested in her. When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were full of Deacon.

* * *

That night as Deacon lay in his bed, he thought about Rayna. He didn't want to, but he couldn't help it. He found himself thinking about what she would look like with no clothes on. She had such creamy skin and when she touched him, her touch was always soft. He imagined that her skin would feel like silk, soft and smooth and cool. Her reddish-gold hair was cut short, not his preference, but it was thick and wavy and he imagined his fingers getting tangled up in it. Her lips were full and pink and he imagined that her mouth would taste as sweet as candy when he kissed her and when he explored it with his tongue. He thought about unbuttoning her blouse and unfastening her bra so that her lush full breasts were free for him to explore, to run his hands over, to put his mouth on. He imagined running his hands up her long, toned legs to that place where they joined and exploring that with his fingers and his tongue. He groaned as he felt himself getting hard. This was not going to be easy, he knew that.

He dreamed of her that night, dreamed of making her scream in ecstasy as he made love to her over and over again.

* * *

The next day when they saw each other, they both felt a little awkward but also a little turned on, although they weren't aware they were both feeling that way. Deacon thought he saw Rayna blush when she looked at him and Rayna thought Deacon looked like he was undressing her with his eyes. They worked on a song, but Rayna kept having trouble remembering the words and Deacon kept messing up the chords. She was acutely aware of Deacon sitting slightly behind her. Deacon was having trouble staying focused because he kept imagining Rayna as she'd been in his dreams.

Watty was frustrated and finally told them to take a break, while he took care of some other business. Rayna walked down to the vending machine and put her coins in for a soft drink. Deacon came up behind her and she turned towards him. She looked up at him, her mouth slightly parted, and he swore quietly and then reached out and pulled her towards him. He captured her mouth in his, forcing his tongue in. After only the briefest hesitation, Rayna leaned into him, returning the kiss hungrily, reaching her arms up to encircle his neck. She felt him grow hard against her and she felt a tingling sensation in her core. Deacon's hands slid down to her ass and pulled her even closer against him. She moaned low in her throat.

Then suddenly he released her, stepping back. He looked at her with pain in his eyes, breathing hard. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have done that." And then he turned and walked away from her.

Rayna sagged back against the drink machine, her heart beating hard and her breathing ragged. She felt an ache in her heart and her soul as she watched him walk away from her. It was crystal clear to her in that moment that this was the man she was going to love for the rest of her life. And she knew he felt the same way about her.


	10. All Hat, No Cattle

_**A little drama at the beginning, but some fun by the end.**_

Rayna was awake. She was laying on her stomach, her face turned away from Deacon. They were in a motel near the Texas Fairground. A slightly nicer than average place, which meant the sheets were reasonably soft and the pillows weren't flat and the room was clean and nicely decorated. Much better than the places where they'd stayed when they were first starting out. Tonight she was headlining at the Texas State Fair.

Deacon groaned and she turned her head, then rolled on her side facing him, reaching for his hand. He squeezed it and held on, his eyes tightly shut. She could see the pain on his face.

"How do you feel, babe?" she asked.

He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. His eyes were bloodshot and she could smell the stale smell of alcohol. "I feel like someone's beating me over the head with a hammer," he said quietly.

Rayna fought not to wince at the sour smell of his breath. "Can I get you some aspirin?"

"Yeah, that would work." He let go of her hand and ran his hands over his face, groaning again.

She got up and found two aspirin in her purse and got a cup of water. She brought them back and sat on the edge of the bed next to him and held them out. He pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing with the headache pain. He took the aspirin and popped them in his mouth, then took the water, drinking deeply. He handed the cup back to her and lay back on the pillow.

As she set the cup down on the bedside table, he slid his hand over her bare leg, rubbing the inside of her thigh. She looked back at him and he was smiling. "You're so beautiful, Ray," he said.

She frowned, although she didn't move away from him. She knew she should, but his touch was already sending little tingles of heat to her core. "And you're hung over, Deacon," she said. She was kind of pissed about that. Now, over a year after rehab, he was back in the same place he'd been before he went.

"That is true. And I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to get drunk." He moved his hand and pushed back the little baby doll nightgown she had on, until his fingers started to graze her between her legs. "Come here, baby, and let me love you. That'll help me feel better."

Rayna choked on a moan. "You shouldn't do this….," she said, not sure if she meant what he was doing to her right then or the drinking. He lifted himself slightly and, keeping his eyes on her, slid two fingers inside her to convince her otherwise.

Rayna twitched at the feeling his fingers swirling inside her. She moaned deep in her throat, then moved to straddle him, moving her hips over him as he grabbed her legs. She reached down between them and put her hand around his erection, then lifted herself slightly and lowered herself as she guided him in. She let out a long, low groan of satisfaction as she felt him fill her up. She leaned slightly forward, balancing herself with her hands on the bed on either side of him. He gripped her hips and helped her move in a way that got them both highly aroused.

"That's my girl, take it all. Come for me, Ray, come for me," he moaned, his hips bucking as he pushed in harder and harder. Her movements became more frantic as she sought to gain release. Suddenly they both hit the apex and finally came together, crying out in loud, long moans, Deacon pushing in as deeply as he could. Finally they collapsed against each other, Deacon still buried inside her, their breathing heavy and ragged. Deacon rolled them over, wrapping his arms around her, nuzzling her neck.

_Damn him,_ she thought, as she lay there feeling him still inside her, feeling his skin on hers. _Damn him for drinking and damn him for being so irresistible._ She couldn't tell him no. She needed him so completely that, even when she was angry with him, she couldn't say no to this. He was her drug. She craved him and nothing made her feel more safe, secure, and loved than being joined with him. She loved him so much.

She was disappointed he was drinking again and she was worried that it seemed to be ratcheting up to more of a problem. He and Vince had gotten hammered last night but at least they'd made it back to the motel. She didn't like that this was happening again.

Rayna sighed as Deacon lay heavily on her. She ran her hands up and down his back, her head turned away as she lightly kissed him on the shoulder. "Babe, I need you to stay away from the booze today. We have a big set tonight and I need you there. Can you do that?"

Deacon moved his hips languidly and kissed her on the temple. "If you'll stay here in bed with me all day, Ray, I'll do anything for you."

She smiled in spite of her irritation. She didn't really care what it took to keep him sober and a day in bed with him was very appealing. She could feel herself beginning to get aroused again and she started moving her hips in tune with him. She moaned as she felt him getting hard again inside her. "It's a deal," she breathed, rocking her hips. "Make me come, Deacon Claybourne. Make me come all day long."

* * *

The only time they got out of bed that day was to shower. And even then, Deacon had captured Rayna's hands against the shower wall and made love to her as they stood letting the water run over them. By the time they headed over to the fairgrounds, they both felt sated from a day full of lovemaking and quiet talk. Deacon felt good as new and Rayna was relieved. She left him with Bucky and the rest of the band, getting their gear unloaded and ready. She pulled Bucky aside to ask him to keep an eye on Deacon and then she walked up to the side stage. She still had at least an hour before she needed to get dressed and get her hair and makeup done.

Mindy McCready was onstage when she got there. Mindy was just starting out and Rayna liked her sound. "Hey there, Rayna Jaymes." She looked over to see a tall, slender guy with a big cowboy hat approaching her. He looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place him. He must have seen the puzzled look on her face, because when he got closer, he extended his hand and said "Luke Wheeler."

She took his hand and nodded. "Right. Luke Wheeler. How are you?"

"I'm good. And it seems like you're really getting into the big time now. Your first album, first CMA nomination. Big time." His smile looked a little overdone. She withdrew her hand.

"I didn't remember your name from the artist list," she said. He was right on the edge of being a big deal, she knew. He was still opening for others, but Bucky said he'd have his own tour soon. He was the favorite of the beer and trucks crowd and was already known for his crowd pleasing shows and his rowdy fan base. That's why she didn't really remember him. His fan base was not at all the same as hers, so their paths had very rarely crossed.

He smiled broadly. "Oh, I'm a fill in. Mark Chestnutt got sick and I'm filling in. You might say I'm the fill-in guy."

Then Rayna remembered he'd filled in for Deacon a year or two back, when they'd been at the Oklahoma State Fair. Deacon had been MIA that day, a casualty of an afternoon at a local bar, and Rayna had been frantic. Luke had just finished his set and offered to fill in. She'd been very grateful and she remembered that he'd done a decent job of covering the lead guitar. After the show, he'd offered to walk her back to her bus and talked her into riding the Ferris wheel on the way back. She hadn't really wanted to, she wanted to get back and find Deacon, but he'd been so nice to help her out that she felt like she couldn't say no.

Riding a Ferris wheel with someone you didn't really know and didn't really have an interest in knowing was not fun, she recalled. They stopped every few feet as more people got into the Ferris wheel cars. He was a real talker, she remembered, a _big_ talker, full of himself. She was too worried about Deacon to really be into the ride and she knew that she had babbled on about him the entire time. She felt a huge sense of relief when the ride was over. She had thanked him, but told him she really needed to get going, and she had rushed off to her bus. She'd been grateful to find Deacon there, passed out, but there, and she hadn't given Luke Wheeler another thought after that.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Deacon there. She smiled, then leaned in to kiss him. "Hey, babe, y'all all finished?" she asked, glad he was there. She had the odd sense of needing to be rescued.

"Yeah, we're good." He eyed Luke suspiciously. "Who's this?"

Luke leaned in, a big smile on his face, and extended his hand. "Luke Wheeler. I'm a big fan of Rayna's. You must be Deacon."

Deacon scowled and nodded. "Yeah." He ignored Luke's outstretched hand.

"Well, it's good to meet you. I don't know if Rayna told you but I filled in for you one night a while back when you were a little under the weather. I was happy to help her out."

Deacon stiffened and his hand slid down to wrap around Rayna's waist protectively. He turned towards her. "We need to get ready, baby," he said.

She smiled at him. "Okay." She turned back to Luke. "Good to see you again. Have a good set."

"You too," Luke said, as they turned to walk off. "Good to see you, Rayna. Deacon."

Deacon hurried Rayna towards the backstage area. "Deacon, slow down," she said.

He scowled at her. "When did that jackass 'fill in' for me, Ray?"

"I don't know, a year or so ago, maybe? It was one of the state fair shows." She frowned at him. "You were wasted in a bar and didn't show up, so don't get all pissy about it."

"That guy's an ass, Ray. The story on him is that he's a jerk to women. I don't want him around you."

Rayna frowned. "He seemed nice enough. What do you mean?"

"I mean, he treats women like they're a piece of meat. Like he's God's gift to women. Stay away from him."

Rayna stopped and grabbed him around the waist. Then she laughed. "Oh my God, babe, are you jealous?"

Deacon glared at her. "I'm not jealous. I'm just taking care of you."

She leaned into him and smiled. "I don't want anyone but you, babe." She kissed him lightly. "After the day we had today, there's nobody else I'd ever want." She winked at him. "Deacon, he's the kind of guy they call 'all hat, no cattle' around these parts. Don't you _ever_ worry about him."

After a moment, he smiled back at her and then kissed her hard. "I love you, Ray."

She smiled up at him. "I love you too, babe."

Deacon hugged her to him, then took her hand and they walked slowly towards their dressing room backstage.


	11. A Wyatt Thanksgiving

The phone ringing woke Rayna up. Deacon's arms around her tightened, pulling her back closer against him. "Don't even think about it," he whispered in her ear. He moved his hand down across her stomach and settled it between her legs, making circles with his fingers.

She could feel him hard against her ass. She started to move her hips, happy to ignore the phone until voice mail picked it up. She started to breathe hard as the waves of pleasure started to roll through her. He slid a finger inside her just slightly, moaning at how ready she was. She whimpered as he continued to tease her. "Oh, Deacon, please," she moaned.

"What do you want, baby?" he asked, his voice husky. He slid two fingers inside her and then pulled them back out, as she moaned.

"I need you inside me. Please," she begged. Then she groaned loudly as he pushed his fingers in again and started pulsing them in and out. She moved her hips frantically around him and then suddenly he pulled out and rolled her over on her back.

He looked down at her as she moaned softly, her eyes half-closed, breathing heavily. He ran his hands over her breasts and then down over her stomach. She kept moaning, moving her hips back and forth. He moved to hover over her and her eyes flickered open, looking deep into his. Her hands wrapped around his erection and then he moaned as well. She gently pulled on him and, as he lowered himself over her, she guided him inside her. As he pressed in deeper, she raised up her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him in even more fully.

He grabbed her hair and leaned down to kiss her. She opened her mouth and their tongues fought each other as he thrust hard into her over and over. She grabbed his shoulders, rocking her hips, moaning deep in her throat. Then she pulled her mouth off his and squeezed her legs around him harder, calling out his name over and over as she came, the throbbing circles of pleasure rolling through her body. He pushed in one last time and swore loudly as he spent himself inside her. Then he collapsed on top of her.

Rayna finally felt her heart beat slowing down and her breathing evening out. She slid her feet down the back of Deacon's legs and just lay there with her arms wrapped around him, feeling the weight of him on her. He was laying with his head turned to the side and she kissed the side of his neck. He shifted his weight onto his arms, lifting himself just a little and looked down at her. "Damn, baby, you're amazing," he said with a crooked smile, then leaned down to kiss her.

She smiled up at him. "You're pretty amazing yourself," she responded. She turned her head and looked at the clock. She gasped and moved her hands to push against him. "Deacon, it's ten-thirty! We need to be at Daddy's at noon!"

Deacon tightened his arms around her as she frantically tried to get out from under him. "Let's just not go, baby," he said. "I bet Lamar won't even notice we're not there."

Rayna glared at him. "Oh, he'll notice. And then I won't hear the end of it."

Deacon laughed. "You can just tell him that your boyfriend was more interested in fucking you than in sitting in his formal dining room, pretending to be civilized."

Rayna rolled her eyes. "I know you're not serious. He'd kill you if I said that. So, come on, I've got to take a shower."

Deacon rolled off of her. "Go ahead. I'll be in there in a minute."

Rayna jumped up off the bed and ran towards the bathroom. "Don't you dare come in here until I'm finished with my shower, Deacon Claybourne!" she cried. Deacon rolled onto his back and laughed. He listened as she started the water, then turned on the shower. Then he sat up, got up off the bed, and followed Rayna into the bathroom.

When Deacon pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the tub, Rayna squealed. "No, no, no!" she cried, as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and started kissing her on the shoulder.

* * *

As they drove over to Lamar's Belle Meade mansion, Rayna turned to Deacon and said, "Well, we're going to be late, so Daddy will make a big deal about it. _Do not_ take the bait, okay?"

Deacon shrugged. "As long as he's not an ass about it."

Rayna rolled her eyes. "No. Please, Deacon, just let him blow off steam and let it go. It's not worth having a fight." She looked at him and he just shrugged. "And no drinking, okay?" Last year, Lamar had plied Deacon with an expensive bourbon and Deacon had gotten drunk. And belligerent. Which had not ended well. "Please?"

"Okay, Ray. I won't drink." He didn't tell her that he'd had a shot of whiskey before they left, while she finished getting ready. There was no way he could deal with a Thanksgiving meal at Lamar's without at least a little liquid courage.

Rayna sighed and sat back against the seat. She hated Thanksgiving dinner at her father's house. It brought back so many unhappy memories for her. She remembered Thanksgiving when her mother was still alive and how painful it was. Virginia Wyatt despised all the hoopla that Lamar wanted at the holidays. She hated parties, at least the Belle Meade parties with all the stuffy rich people and politicians milling around the house. And more often than not, she'd end up in the garden by herself, while Lamar got angrier and angrier, all the while pretending to be the welcoming host. After all the guests had left, Rayna and Tandy would hide in Tandy's bedroom as their parents' shouting and slamming of doors echoed through the house.

After Virginia died, Lamar quit having the big parties at the holidays, but he still insisted on formal family dinners, especially at Thanksgiving. Rayna's memories of those days were of the three of them sitting silently in the dining room, eating a meal none of them really wanted. After Lamar excused them from the table, she and Tandy would lock themselves in Tandy's room, while Lamar brooded in the den with bourbon and cigars.

Rayna had thought that when Lamar threw her out, she'd be done with these command performances, but unfortunately, he still expected her to show up. She told him the first time that Deacon would be coming with her, hoping he would not want to see the man who had "soiled" his daughter, as he had described him to Tandy, and she would be excused. But it was not to be. This was the third Thanksgiving since she'd left home. The first one had simply been uncomfortable and, when Lamar kept lecturing Rayna about her "foolish dreams", Deacon had told him to go to hell and had pulled Rayna up from the table and walked out with her. Last year, Lamar didn't lecture, but he let Deacon get drunk and then he picked a fight with him. Deacon fought back, as he usually did when he'd been drinking, and that time it was Rayna that pulled him out of the house.

Deacon looked over at her. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. She looked over at him and gave him a small smile. "You know what I think?" he said. "I think we need to figure out a way to get out of there after we eat and before dessert. That way you make your appearance, we get a decent meal, even if the company sucks, and we can get out of there and have the rest of the day to ourselves. What do you think?"

Rayna breathed in, then let it out slowly. She was silent for a minute. "I think I'm not feeling all that well," she said.

Deacon frowned. "What's wrong, baby?"

She was quiet for a moment and then she burst out laughing. "Not really, silly. That's what I'm going to tell Daddy. That I don't feel really well. So we'll eat, or actually I'll just pick at my food, and then I'll say I'm really coming down with something and we need to leave."

Deacon laughed. "Got it. Good idea, Ray."

Rayna smiled at him. "Just follow my lead. And _don't_ let Daddy get under your skin."

* * *

They pulled up to the front of the house. Rayna reached for Deacon's hand. "I hate doing this," she said, her voice small.

"Then let's not," he said. Which made perfect sense, except that all that would do would be to cause trouble for her. Even though she hadn't lived in this house for nearly three years, Lamar Wyatt still cast a wide shadow over her life. His influence could still make life difficult for her around Nashville. So Deacon knew what her response would be.

"We have to," she said. "Look, we're already late, so he's already going to be mad. We'll leave before dessert and it'll be done for another year." She looked over at him, sadness on her face. "I'm sorry, babe. You're a good man to do this for me."

He leaned over and kissed her. "I don't want you to do this by yourself, Ray."

They got out of the truck and Rayna waited for Deacon to walk around to where she waited. He took her hand and she took a step forward. He pulled her back and into his arms, leaning in and kissing her long and hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss enthusiastically, pressing herself against him.

"Hey, you two!" came Tandy's voice. They pulled back from each other and turned to face her. She was standing at the top of the steps scowling. "If y'all don't get in here now, Daddy's going to blow his stack. Actually he's already stewing."

As Rayna and Deacon walked up the steps, Tandy reached out and grabbed Rayna's arm. "Where the hell have you been?" she hissed in her sister's ear. "I called you this morning at ten to be sure you were getting ready and you didn't answer."

Rayna blushed. "Sorry," she said, thinking about what she and Deacon had been doing when the phone rang. She pulled her arm away from her sister and, after a brief pause, she and Deacon walked in the front door.

Lamar was in the study, just off the foyer. He walked out, a tumbler of bourbon in his hand and a smug smile on his face. "Well, well, well," he said, "I was wondering if the two of you would be able to pull yourselves away from each other long enough to grace us with your presence."

Rayna squeezed Deacon's hand hard. "Sorry, Daddy, but I wasn't feeling too good, so it's my fault."

Lamar looked at Rayna and then at Deacon. "I hope you're not in the family way, Rayna."

Deacon bristled and took a step towards Lamar. "That's ridiculous, Daddy," Rayna said, her teeth clenched in anger.

"Well, that's good to hear. Since y'all are finally here, we can go ahead and sit down for dinner." He started towards the dining room, then turned back to look at Deacon. "I forgot my manners. Deacon, would you like a whiskey?" He held up his glass.

Deacon would have loved a glass of that right then, but he'd promised Rayna. "No, sir, I would not," he said.

Lamar shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then he resumed walking into the dining room, Tandy following, after shooting Rayna a hard look. Rayna sighed. Deacon put his hand on the back of her neck, kneading it lightly.

He leaned into her ear. "Don't let him get to you, Ray," he whispered.

She looked up at him and gave him a tentative smile. "I'm gonna try, babe," she said. "Thanks for being here." He brushed her lips with a kiss and then they followed Tandy and Lamar into the dining room.

* * *

There was silence in the room as the cook and her helper brought in the food and set it on the table. After Lamar said a prayer, they started passing food. Rayna took only a small amount. Lamar looked at her plate. "Isn't the food to your liking?" he asked, sounding a little condescending.

Rayna looked at him. "It looks fine, Daddy, but I told you, I don't feel well."

Lamar took a bite and ate slowly. Then he looked over at Rayna. "I guess living in that low rent place isn't all it's cracked up to be then, is it, little girl?" Rayna just glared at him. Lamar shifted his gaze to Deacon. "What do you have to say, Claybourne? Rayna isn't used to living in that kind of environment. She's used to this." He waved his hand around the room. "Being waited on and taken care of. Not waiting on you."

Deacon clenched his fists. Rayna reached over and put her hand over his, looking up at him, her eyes pleading with him. He took a deep breath. "Lamar, she's where she wants to be," he said, his voice low and even.

Lamar looked at him incredulously. "Really? Are you sure?"

Rayna turned to look at her father. "Daddy, stop it. I'm happy. And yes, I'm where I want to be. Why can't you just accept that?"

Lamar looked at her. "You had everything you could have wanted here, Rayna. And you gave it all up to live in some seedy apartment in East Nashville" – he practically sneered as he said it – "with someone who can't even support you."

"Daddy, stop," Tandy said.

Lamar didn't take his eyes off Rayna and Deacon. "Don't tell me to stop, Tandy. I know you've bolstered her up, behind my back." Tandy's eyes widened in surprise. "I'd like for Deacon to explain to me how's he's going to support you, Rayna."

Deacon worked his lip. His eyes narrowed as he started at Lamar. "We're doing fine. No thanks to you, but Rayna's going to make it."

Lamar sat back and grinned, not kindly, chucking softly. "Ah, I see. And when she 'makes it', what happens to you, Claybourne? She won't need _you_ anymore. Or are you hoping she'll carry you on her back?"

Rayna knew Deacon was about to explode. "Any success I have is Deacon's success too," she said firmly. "I wouldn't be where I am without him. He's the one that's been there every step of the way with me. _He's_ the one that been my support. And my family."

Lamar shook his head. "Rayna, you already have a family. Besides, you could do so much better than an uneducated guitar player with a drinking problem."

Deacon pushed back his chair so hard it tipped over as he stood and threw his napkin on the table. "Lamar…." he started, pointing his finger at the older man.

Rayna stood up and grabbed his arm. "That's enough," she said angrily. She scowled at her father. "We're done here." She pulled on Deacon's arm and after a moment of hesitation, he let her pull him out, as he glared at Lamar.

When they got to the truck, he slammed his fist in the side of it with a roar, then winced in pain as he shook his hand. "Damn it, Ray!" he shouted. "Next time I want to punch him in the face."

Rayna grabbed his arm, then gently took his hand in hers and kissed it gently, the way her mother used to do when she'd get hurt. "Calm down, babe," she said. "He's not worth it."

He sort of wanted to snatch his hand away, but he actually liked how she was taking care of him. He felt tears threaten, not from the pain of his hand, but the pain in his heart at the way Lamar treated her. In his eyes, there was no better person than Rayna Jaymes, no one more caring or loving, and he hated the demeaning way that her father acted towards her. She might act like it was no big deal, but he knew it had to hurt. He put his arm around her and held her close. "I love you, Ray," he whispered. "You deserve so much better than this."

She looked up at him and smiled. "I _have_ better. I have you." He leaned down and kissed her. "So, now that we have the whole afternoon free, I have an idea."

He grinned at her. "So do I," he said with a wink.

She stepped back and swatted his arm. "No, silly. I think we should go find a Christmas tree."

He screwed up his face. "A what?"

"A Christmas tree. Come on!" She turned for the truck and, shrugging his shoulders, Deacon walked around and got in the driver's side. Without another look at the Wyatt mansion, he put the truck in gear and they went roaring out of Belle Meade.

* * *

"I think it's silly to get a Christmas tree, Ray," Deacon said as they neared downtown. "We're gonna be gone a lot of December anyway. Plus we don't have anything to put on it."

"Actually we do. I've got some of my mom's old ornaments and decorations in a box in the closet."

Deacon looked over at her. "Really?"

Rayna nodded and looked out the window. "Tandy had them. She gave them to me."

Deacon was quiet for a moment. She'd told him how alone she'd felt after her mom died. "Well, still, Ray, we're gonna be on the road a lot."

Rayna sighed. "I still want a tree, Deacon. We've never had one and I, well, I just want one."

Deacon reached for her hand and gently squeezed it. When she looked at him, he gave her a smile. "Okay, baby, if that's what you want, we'll get a tree."

Rayna smiled happily, clapping her hands. "Thank you, Deacon!" she cried.

They found a Christmas tree lot that was open and spent what Deacon thought was a ridiculous amount of time going through the aisles looking at all the trees. Eventually Rayna settled on a small tree and they put it in the bed of the truck and drove to the apartment. When they got the tree set up, with a stand they'd bought at the lot, Rayna pulled out the box of decorations and lights and they decorated the tree. When they were finished, Deacon brought out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, and they snuggled up on the couch, drinking whiskey and watching the twinkling lights on the tree as the sky darkened outside.

Rayna burrowed into Deacon's side, smiling happily. "Oh, babe, it's beautiful," she said.

Deacon kissed the top of her head and pulled her in a little closer. "I have to admit, it makes this old place look kind of festive." He set his glass down, then reached for hers and set it down next to his. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her deeply. When he finally pulled away from her lips, he said, "We should do this every year."

She smiled. "Our new tradition. I love it!" She kissed him. "And I love you." She looked deep into his eyes, running her fingers through his hair. "Take me to bed, babe." And he did just that.


	12. For Eternity

"Rayna, let's go!" Deacon shouted as he stood at the front door.

"I'm coming!" she called out from the bedroom. After he waited a few more minutes, she finally came running out pulling her little suitcase and carrying her tote bag. "Sorry, sorry, I just couldn't figure out what to bring."

Deacon smiled at her. "Baby, you're not going to be wearing any of that anyway. I don't know why it was such a big deal."

Rayna smirked. "I am _not_ going to just walk around the cabin stark naked all weekend, Deacon. That's just crazy."

He reached his arm out and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her in to him and kissing her hard. "You never know," he whispered.

She giggled, pressing herself against him. "I guess we should go, then. I can't wait to get back up there." It had been six months since Deacon had bought the cabin and they'd gone up every chance they had. This would be the first time they'd gone where they weren't bringing furniture they'd picked up at flea markets or that people had given to them. Even though Rayna was making decent money touring and Deacon was getting regular royalty checks from his publishing deal, they still tried to be frugal.

When Deacon had first taken her up there and showed her the cabin he'd bought for her, her first thought was that he shouldn't have done it. _No big decisions right out of rehab_, they'd both been told. She worried that he was setting himself up for a fall, that it was too soon to feel so on top of the world. He'd gotten his drinking problem under control, though, and now he was able to have a drink or two and stop. But her second thought was that this place was exactly what she'd told him she wanted. After she had described it for him that long ago hot spring night, they had talked about it again and again. And then he had found the exact place she had envisioned. Having someplace to escape to was a dream come true. She loved this house.

One of the first things they'd promised themselves was that it would be just theirs. Even though it had four bedrooms – plenty of room for guests – it was going to be just for them. Their private retreat. And their family, of course, one day. But this would be a place they would never share with anyone else. It was theirs and only theirs.

* * *

"Deacon, there's a roadside market. Can we stop?"

Deacon looked at her. "Seriously? We've already stopped once and now you want to again?"

Rayna blushed. She had not been able to keep her hands off him and they'd had to pull off the highway to take care of that. But it wasn't like they had a lot farther to go. "For food, babe," she said. "Fresh fruit and vegetables. We have to eat."

He winked. "I guess. But you're enough for me."

She swatted his arm and he laughed. He pulled off the exit, though, like she'd asked. There was very little he wouldn't do for her. Right off the road was a sizeable roadside market that looked pretty permanent. Deacon pulled in and parked. Rayna glanced in the mirror and smoothed her hair that had gotten mussed during their last stop. Deacon walked around the truck and helped her out. They walked into the building hand-in-hand.

"Howdy, folks!" called out an older gentleman from the back of the store. "We have beautiful tomatoes today. Plus blueberries, fresh picked. All our produce is homegrown and delicious."

Rayna smiled. "Thanks! I do love homegrown tomatoes," she answered. Deacon put his arms around her waist and leaned into her neck, kissing her lightly. She giggled. "Stop, babe." She gestured towards a basket. "Get one of those."

Deacon picked up the basket and followed her as she picked out tomatoes, blueberries, strawberries, and corn. In the very back of the store was some merchandise and she slowly walked along the racks as she looked it over.

"Deacon, look," she said as she reached out to pick up a small wooden plaque. On the face of it had been engraved the word 'ETERNITY'. It was simple and the sentiment appealed to her. "Eternity." She gazed up at him with love in her eyes. "Like us. Together for eternity."

Deacon took it from her and looked at it. One thing she loved about him was that he didn't always try to act all macho about romantic stuff. He didn't always get it right, but he always made her feel loved and desired and he wasn't afraid to show it. They were always touching each other, staying physically connected as well as emotionally connected. He smiled and then kissed her. "Let's get it then," he said. "We'll hang it up at the cabin."

"Perfect." She took it back and sighed contentedly. "Perfect," she said again. She looked at the basket full of produce. "I think we're ready."

Deacon wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her up against him, kissing her. "I _am_ ready for you, Ray," he whispered.

Rayna smiled happily and, taking his hand, led him up to the checkout area. She added a bouquet of flowers to the basket when they got there. Deacon paid and they walked back out to the truck and headed on to the cabin.

* * *

Almost before Deacon had the truck in park, Rayna had opened the door and jumped out, squealing with delight. She loved spending time here, at her dream house. It never failed to amaze her that Deacon was actually able to find exactly what she'd told him she wanted. She ran towards the lake, stopping to pull off her boots and she splashed into the water until it was just above her ankles, laughing out loud.

Deacon smiled as he watched her. Nothing made him happier than seeing her happy. Even though he knew she was apprehensive when he'd brought her here the first time and told her he'd bought it for her, she had fallen in love with the place right away. She meant everything to him and he wanted only to make her happy. His smile dimmed as he thought about how quickly he had developed a drinking problem. He had hoped not to follow in his father's footsteps and he was sure he had things under control now. He could even have the occasional beer or whiskey these days. He was positive he was not a drunk like his daddy.

He got everything out of the truck and took it inside, leaving the produce they'd bought on the kitchen counter and putting their bags in the bedroom. Then he walked out onto the porch. Rayna was still splashing around in the water, occasionally leaning down to scoop it up in her hands and fling it all around. _I'm the luckiest man in the world. I hope I never do anything to screw this up._ He reached down and pulled off his own boots, then ran down the lawn in his bare feet, into the lake behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and swinging her around, and leaned into her neck.

Rayna giggled softly as she wrapped her own arms around his and leaned back into him. "I love this place so much, babe," she said. "And you."

Deacon pulled her tight against him. "I still can't believe I have you, Ray," he said, his voice catching just a bit.

She turned slightly so she could look at him, her face crinkled up in a frown. "Why, Deacon? I'm not anything so special."

He kissed her on the cheek. "But you are, baby. You're so sweet. And so perfect. You could have done so much better than someone like me. A backwoods kind of guy who couldn't hold his liquor."

Rayna turned around in his arms and brought her hands up to cup his face. "Deacon, I'm not perfect. And it doesn't matter to me where you came from. We were just meant to be together. You know that. From the first time we met, we both knew that." She kissed him gently. "And the liquor thing? Well, you fixed that. Before it got to be a problem. So everything from here on is gold. Right?"

Deacon kissed her. "But you're so refined…."

Rayna frowned. "Stop. Just because I grew up in Belle Meade does not mean that's who I am. Just like where you came from isn't who you are. You know me better than anyone, babe, and you know that what makes me happy is being with you, no matter where we are. I love this cabin and I love our apartment. And our tour bus. All I care about is that I'm with you. Don't you know that?"

He nodded. "I do. I just, I guess I just can't help sometimes thinking you could have so much more."

She pressed herself against him and smiled. "Babe, I don't want more. I have all I'll ever need right now. Right here."

He leaned down and kissed her. He tugged at her lip and she opened her mouth, their tongues battling each other, the kiss getting more and more intense. He reached down and slid her dress up to her hips. He hooked his thumbs in the sides of her panties and drew them down, pressing into her. She felt him between her legs, hard and ready, and she moaned. He slowly walked her backwards until he could lay her down on the grass, never taking his mouth from hers. Then he pulled away, sitting back on his knees. He pushed her dress up and pulled off her panties, then unzipped his jeans. She reached for him then and he slowly lowered himself and entered her swiftly.

"Oh, Deacon," she moaned softly against his mouth, and she gave herself over to the sensations she was feeling as he gave her exactly what she craved.

* * *

They were sitting on the porch as the sun began to set over the lake. The sky was colored pink and blue, the lake darkened because of the trees on the other side. The lake narrowed near the cabin and was secluded, another reason they both liked it.

Rayna reached over and took Deacon's hand in hers, threading her fingers in his. He looked over at her, but she was leaning back in her chair, looking out over the lake. "I wish we could stay here forever," she said.

"I know."

She turned to look at him. "Everything's all finally happening for us, Deacon," she said. "My second album is selling well. Bucky thinks I'll have my own tour next year. I got nominated for a CMA. You have that great publishing deal. It's exciting, but it's a little scary too. Everything's going to change."

He knew what was worrying her. "We're not going to change, Ray. You and me. We're good."

She squeezed his hand. She'd felt so bad for him when the album he'd recorded had sunk almost before it had had a chance. She thought it was such a great album – she'd helped him pick out every song and had loved that he'd included "A Life That's Good", the song he'd written on a napkin the day he met her. He had been disappointed, of course, but he'd never given any indication that he'd been crushed by it. He'd told her then that it was a relief, that he hadn't wanted to give up being in her band. And now it looked like she was on the verge of stardom. She was being called "the future of country music". But she was the headliner, she was a solo artist, and she didn't want Deacon to feel like he was second class. "You sure? I still think you could…."

He shook his head and frowned a little. "No," he interrupted her. "If I went out on my own, we'd never see each other. I'd rather keep things as they are. I don't need the spotlight. You know, 'I don't need fame'. That's for you, Ray. I just want to be there with you."

She gave him a little half smile. "None of this would be happening for me, babe, without you. You know that. You make me better. Our songs are the ones people want to hear." She looked back out over the lake. "But I still sometimes think it would be nice to just cocoon ourselves here, just you and me, where the outside world can't get to us. 'Cause I think it's gonna change us. Some anyway."

Deacon took a deep breath. "Well, then I guess we just need to come here as much as we can. To remind ourselves of who we really are at the core of things. Don't you?"

She turned back to him and smiled. "I do." She looked out over the yard and her smile got bigger. "Look, babe. Fireflies! I remember when Tandy and I were little, we used to run around the back yard and chase 'em. Mom would be out there watching us and we'd be laughing, all of us." Her voice trailed off as she thought about that memory.

Deacon dropped her hand and picked up his guitar, running his fingers over it, then launching into some of their love songs as the sun sank lower and the moon rose. He thought it couldn't get any better than this, stars twinkling above, he and Rayna singing together, just the two of them on the porch of their cabin. When they finished with "No One Will Ever Love You", Deacon put the guitar down. Then he took Rayna's hand and pulled her up and into his arms. He kissed her with all the love he had for her, then he led her into the house, under the "Eternity" plaque they'd hung above the door that afternoon, and back to the bedroom.


	13. I'd Like To Introduce Deacon Claybourne

_**Thanks to all of you who are reading these little stories. I enjoy thinking about Deacon and Rayna's past and sharing that with you. A special thanks to those who've left reviews – it always helps to know what you like!**_

When Rayna walked into the Pancake Pantry, Watty spotted her and waved her over. She smiled shyly and walked to the table. Watty stood while she sat down and then sat down as well. A server came over and they both ordered coffee. Rayna was so nervous that she could hardly look up from her hands in her lap. When the server brought back the coffee, she finally looked up as she reached for the sugar and cream.

Watty smiled at her kindly. "I was starting to wonder if you were going to call me, young lady," he said.

Rayna blushed and looked away. He seemed like such a nice man, but she'd been a little scared to call him. She kept thinking that if she really pursued this that somehow her daddy would find out and there would be hell to pay. She wanted this so badly she could almost taste it, but she wasn't sure she wanted to invoke the wrath of Lamar Wyatt. "I'm sorry, Mr. White," she said, her voice small.

"Rayna, look at me," he said. She did. He knew that a small part of why he wanted to see her, why he wanted to help her, was because of how much she reminded him of Virginia Wyatt. But she was a very talented singer, that he could tell as well, and he wanted to give her a shot. "Do you want this? I mean, do you really, truly want this?"

Rayna took a deep breath, then smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir, I do. More than anything, I want this."

"How long have you been singing?"

"Well, I've been singing since I was a little girl. My mama and I used to sing together all the time. But I just started singing at open mics, if that's really what you mean."

He smiled and nodded. "It is." He paused and looked at her intently. "You know, it was a really big deal for you to get that open mic spot at the Bluebird. That's the place where you really want to shine. So, I want to give you some feedback that I hope you'll take to heart. And if you do, and if you still want to try to make a career of this, I'll see what I can do to help you."

"I really do, Mr. White. I want this so bad." After she had left the Bluebird with Tandy, she had remembered that she had seen articles on Watty White, one of the top songwriters and producers in Nashville. He'd worked with many of the top country artists and very occasionally would find a newcomer that he could groom. That's why he'd looked familiar to her. She couldn't believe her luck to have him be at the Bluebird the night she was there.

"Well, I really do think that you have great talent, Rayna. You have the voice of a songbird and, with the right songs and the right amount of determination, you can be very successful, I believe." She was grinning from ear to ear. "But, there are some opportunity areas for you. How long have you been playing guitar?"

"Wow, since I was ten, I guess. When Mom gave me her guitar. I've been taking lessons." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled coyly. "I know I'm not that good."

Watty shook his head and smiled kindly. "No, you are not. But you don't have to be. I can get someone to play guitar for you. I even have someone in mind. And then the songs you played, those were yours too, right?"

Rayna nodded. "I haven't been writing long. My mama told me to keep a journal and use that to write from, so I just kind of started with that."

Watty smiled as he imagined Virginia tutoring her daughter on writing songs and playing music. It was so like her to have encouraged her daughter that way. "That's something else I think you could use some help with. This guitar player I'm thinking of is actually a very talented songwriter and I think he could give you some tips and help you improve what you have."

Rayna frowned. "I don't know if I want to write with somebody," she said. It was one thing to have someone play guitar for her, but when she envisioned her career, it was as a singer-songwriter. Her _own_ songs.

"Try it first. You're still quite young and new to the business. Take some help from someone who's been around a bit and has some experience. Plus he's probably one of the best guitar players I've ever heard. He's nineteen, so I think the two of you are close enough in age that you'd get along pretty well."

Rayna took a deep breath. This was, after all, _Watty White._ He was a legend in Nashville. She was nobody. She understood that she needed to listen to him, that he just might know a whole lot more than she did about being in the music business. But, at the same time, she didn't want to compromise herself. She had a very clear vision about her career and she was prepared to stand her ground. Her stubbornness was one of the few things she'd inherited from her father. She was willing to concede on the guitar, though.

She nodded. "Okay. I'm willing to meet this guitar player," she said.

Watty smiled. "Great. I can get you into the open mic at the Bluebird again next Monday. Can you get there?"

Rayna nodded. "Yes, sir, I can."

"Okay. Be there at six. I'll bring the guitar player and the two of you can meet."

Rayna grinned. "Thank you, Mr. White."

Watty gave her a lopsided grin. "Don't thank me yet. You can thank me when we get you some paying gigs." He stood then and she did as well. He took her hand in both of his. "I'll see you Monday, Rayna," he said and, after leaving a ten dollar bill on the table, turned to walk out.

Rayna wanted to scream, but since she was in a public place, she just picked up her purse and rushed out of the restaurant. She jumped into Tandy's car, waiting for her in the parking lot, and excitedly told her everything that had happened.

* * *

Monday night couldn't come fast enough. Rayna was nervous when she and Tandy got to the Bluebird. She was wearing a denim skirt and a yellow and white gingham blouse. She also wore her lucky red boots, the same ones she'd worn the night she played the Bluebird and met Watty. Tandy took a seat at the bar and Rayna walked over to the table where Watty was sitting, alone.

"Hey, Mr. White," she said, with a frown. "So the guitar player isn't going to be here?"

Watty smiled at her. "First of all, you need to stop calling me 'Mr. White'. I'm Watty. And second, he'll be here. Don't worry."

He still hadn't arrived when it was Rayna's turn to get up on stage. There was a decent crowd, not too rowdy or over the top, and the two acts that had gone before her had gotten warm applause. The host announced her. "Our next artist is a new talent that's been on our stage before. Please welcome again, Miss Rayna Wyatt!" There was encouraging applause and a few catcalls from the crowd.

"Thank you so much," she said into the microphone, with a smile. She pulled up the stool closer to the microphone and sat, with one foot on the stage and the other heel hooked onto the lower rung. She slipped on her guitar and did a short warm up. Then she launched into her first number.

A young guy walked in as she was playing her first song. He had on well-worn jeans and boots and a black t-shirt. He was handsome, Rayna thought. Very handsome. He stopped at the bar and got a soft drink. She watched him as he walked over and sat down next to Watty. Watty turned to him and shook his hand. She forced herself to focus on her song, because he was unbelievably distracting as he sat there. He was watching her then, periodically scribbling on a napkin. She finished up her songs and then stepped off the stage to welcoming applause.

As she walked over to Watty's table, she looked at the young man standing up as she approached, shoving the napkin into his jeans pocket. She felt butterflies in her stomach. She had a strange sensation down there that she'd never had before. He was ruggedly handsome, with his scruffy hair and face, and a pair of amazing blue eyes. Watty took her hands in his. "That was lovely, Rayna, just lovely," he said. Then he turned to the young man. "Rayna, I'd like to introduce Deacon Claybourne."

Rayna fell in love the moment that Deacon smiled at her.


	14. King George Calls

Rayna woke to knocking on the door. Or was it the pounding in her head? She wasn't sure. She and Deacon had played at The Station Inn the night before and then hung out drinking afterwards. She was not a heavy drinker, but she had overdone it and had more than her usual maximum three drinks. She'd been talked into doing shots of tequila and she knew she was going to pay the price now. Two things occurred to her in that moment. One was that she _hated_ hangovers, which was why she usually didn't let herself get to that point. And two was that she could feel her legs entwined with Deacon's, so she knew they both got home safely. And together. That wasn't always a given.

"Deacon," she groaned. "Someone's at the door."

"I don't give a shit," he growled into his pillow. "It's too damn early for company."

The knocking continued. "Rayna!" she heard a voice call out.

"Oh, God, Deacon, it's Bucky. You gotta go answer it."

Deacon turned his head to face her and glared at her. "If we ignore it, he'll go away."

She shook her head, then winced at the feeling that her brain was disconnected to her skull and was rattling around inside. "But he won't. Please, babe."

He took in a sharp breath and, after a moment, he pushed himself up and reached on the floor for his jeans. "Fuck," he said, under his breath, as he shuffled out of the bedroom.

Rayna knew Bucky was there to see her, so she started the motions of getting out of bed, even though her head was pounding mercilessly. She could hear Deacon open the door and ask Bucky what the hell he was doing there so early.

"Uh, it's not that early, Deacon. It's after twelve."

"Whatever. What's so damn important?"

Rayna slowly made her way out of the bedroom, a robe wrapped around her naked body. She was pretty sure she looked as rough as she felt. "Hey, Buck," she said, with a weary smile. "What's up?"

Bucky smiled excitedly. "I'm sorry to come by unannounced, Rayna, but I wanted to tell you this in person." He looked back and forth between Rayna and Deacon. They both looked unbelievably hung over, a mess. Deacon was almost always either drunk or hung over, but it had been a long time since he'd seen Rayna even really tipsy. "So, I got a call this morning, Rayna, about you being the opening act for George Strait."

Rayna looked at Bucky with a dumbfounded look on her face. "Um, what?" She was certain she hadn't heard that right.

"George Strait wants you to open for him for the first forty stops on his tour."

"Shit," Deacon said quietly.

Rayna looked at Deacon. "Oh my God, babe," she said. She looked back at Bucky. "Seriously?"

Bucky nodded. "Seriously." He held up a bunch of papers. "I've got the official contract offer." He walked over to the kitchen table and sat down with the contract in front of him. When Deacon and Rayna didn't immediately join him, he looked up. "Sit down, y'all."

Rayna looked at Deacon and slowly raised her hand up to her mouth. Deacon shook his head and laughed softly. "Damn, baby, I think you've arrived," he said.

Rayna pulled out a chair and sat down, looking at Bucky with tears in her eyes. "Seriously? George Strait wants _me_ to open for him?"

Bucky laughed. "Yes, he does. Edgehill pitched you and he listened to one of your demos and he really liked what he heard." He sat back. "This is it, Rayna. This is your shot. You play this right and you could be a headliner yourself before too long."

Deacon sat down opposite Rayna and put a bottle of whiskey and 3 shot glasses on the table. "I think we need to celebrate," he said.

"Well, first, let's sign the contract. While we still have control of all our faculties," Bucky said. He slid the contract over and pointed at the line with the post-it arrow next to it. "Sign here, Rayna." He pulled a pen out of his breast pocket and handed it to her.

Rayna got ready to sign, then looked up. "What am I getting? Is it a good deal for me?" She was sure Bucky had negotiated well, but she knew she needed to ask.

Bucky nodded. "It's a good deal. The money is generous. The perks are better than you'd expect – hotel rooms, private dressing room, meal stipend en route. We'll do radio in every city on the tour. It doesn't get better than this, Rayna. King George." He sat back and smiled. Rayna deserved this. She'd worked hard, fought for what she wanted, and had proven herself to be a tough competitor in the world of country music. He wasn't kidding when he told her she could be on her way to headlining her own tour. It wasn't always easy for a female solo performer, but being on tour with one of the top male artists would get her the exposure she needed, and she had the fierceness that would get her the rest of the way.

Rayna smiled. "I know." She cut her eyes over to Deacon briefly. "I guess this was worth getting woken up for." She focused on the contract and signed her name.

Deacon poured out three shots of whiskey and handed them out. Then he lifted his in Rayna's direction. "To Rayna Jaymes," he said, with a smile. "You're on your way!"

* * *

Three shots later, Bucky took the signed contract and left. Rayna walked him to the door, her hangover gone with the excitement of the news and the whiskey shots. After she closed the door, she turned and untied her robe. Smiling, she sashayed over to Deacon and leaned down to unzip his jeans. He reached up to tweak her nipple as she pulled him out. Then she straddled him as he pushed into her, and she kissed him greedily. She could feel the zipper nip at her but she didn't care. All she wanted was to have him inside her as she celebrated this latest chapter in her quest to be a country music star. Today had been a very, very good day indeed.


	15. Two Arms Around Me

_**I wrote this chapter for Becky Po, who asked for this scene from Deacon's perspective.**_

Deacon's brain was in a whirlwind as he drove back to his apartment in East Nashville. He'd been in Nashville for a year. He was like so many other young kids who came here, hoping they'd be discovered, hoping for a little magic. He'd had crumbs here and there, every once in a while getting a paying gig, but he'd felt like he was no closer to achieving what he wanted than he'd been the day he'd arrived. Now, suddenly, it felt like it was all getting ready to change. For the better. All because of a pretty redhead.

* * *

Deacon had spent almost his entire life planning how he would get out of Natchez, Mississippi. His father was a mean, violent drunk, who beat his wife, his daughter and his son regularly. Sometimes it was because of the many disappointments in his own life that he tried to numb with whiskey, other times it seemed that it was for sport. His mother could, or would, no longer protect him and his sister. He and Beverly talked often about escaping to Nashville, finding their way to the promised land. But when things really got awful, and he was ready to go, she had a boyfriend and she saw him as her way out. He'd begged her to come with him, but she couldn't make herself leave Doug O'Connor, and so he'd headed to Nashville on his own.

They had always planned to be a team. Beverly would sing and he would play the guitar and write songs. Now that he was here, he had to do it all and he wasn't sure he was good enough. He knew he could write good songs and he knew he was a decent guitar player, but he was hesitant to sing in front of others. It was at an open mic night at Tootsie's that he met Watty White. They had sat and talked for a long time about Deacon's background and his dreams.

As he'd gotten more comfortable singing, he'd started to think more about being a headliner himself. Watty didn't seem to think that was his best path, but he had surprisingly taken the younger man under his wing and encouraged his songwriting, which he'd thought was destined for greatness. Then one day Watty had called him and asked him to meet at the Bluebird.

"To perform?" he'd asked.

"Actually I want you to see this young female singer I'm mentoring. She tries to play guitar, but she's not good at it, and her songwriting is a little weak. I'm hoping that maybe you'd like to team up with her."

Deacon sighed. "I don't know, Watty. I'd sort of thought I'd go out on my own. You know that."

Watty smiled wryly on his end. "I know, but just come listen. You might change your mind. I think the two of you together could be better than either of you on your own. But if you don't agree, there's no obligation."

Deacon shrugged. "Okay, I guess I can do that. When?"

"I've got her on the open mic schedule this coming Monday. Her name is Rayna Wyatt."

"I'm working until five-thirty Monday, so I'll get there as soon as I can. Do I need to bring my guitar?"

"No, I just want you to hear her and meet her."

"Okay, I'll be there Monday."

"See you then, Deacon."

He'd have to hurry to make it by six. Traffic was crazy crossing town and on Hillsboro Pike it would be jammed. He would likely be late. Hopefully this girl wasn't first on the bill. He and Becky were supposed to hook up on Monday, but he could probably blow her off. They had a very loose relationship, if you could even call it a relationship. He'd really never had a steady girlfriend. He never had a shortage of women he could take to bed when he needed that, but he didn't want the pressure of a relationship. His role models for marriage and parenting were terrible and he didn't see himself doing either one, so it made no sense to get into a steady relationship.

Becky was fun and easygoing. She was a pretty brunette who worked as a receptionist in a doctor's office and lived in his apartment complex. She told him once that he was the type of guy women loved. When he'd asked her why, she'd said, "Deacon, you have that wounded heart look in your eyes. There's a sadness that every woman wants to be the one to heal. Plus you're respectful and you have a pretty smile." She'd wrapped her arm around his waist then and pressed herself against him. "And you're hot. Sexy. And damn good in bed." He'd been a little embarrassed by that. He'd gone home and looked in the mirror, wondering what she'd meant by the "wounded heart look" comment.

* * *

He was late. Traffic had been a bitch. When he got there he stopped at the bar and got a root beer, then went to sit with Watty.

"Hey, Deacon," Watty whispered, as he shook his hand. He nodded towards the singer on stage. "That's her."

Deacon sat down slowly, mesmerized by the girl sitting on the stage. She was sexy but wholesome. Her reddish-gold hair floated around her face in curls and waves. She had a beautiful smile. He felt like his breath was caught in his throat. His chest felt tight. He felt something deep in his gut that he couldn't name. He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket – he always had a pen on him in case he got the writing inspiration – and started jotting down phrases without much thought. He didn't have his notebook with him, though, so he used what was available – cocktail napkins. _Sittin' here tonight / By the firelight._ She looked like someone you'd want to have a life with, someone you could settle down with. _At the end of the day / Lord, I pray / I have a life that's good._ There was something simple and easy about her, the way she sang, how she looked. _Two arms around me / Heaven to ground me / And a family that always calls me home._

He had no idea where the words came from. Later, when he found the napkins in his pocket, the words had still been rolling around in his head and he'd written out a whole song in less than a half hour. She had inspired him that day. It had surprised him a little, later on, when he'd realized how quickly he'd fallen head over heels in love with her. He also remembered that it wasn't purely a sexual response that he had to her, although he certainly wasn't immune to her long, shapely legs or to the surprising fullness of her breasts or to her sultry blue eyes. There was just something about her; he knew she would be part of his soul for the rest of his life.

When she finished her set, she walked out to Watty's table. During the few minutes that the next singer was setting up, Watty introduced them. "Rayna, I'd like to introduce Deacon Claybourne. Deacon, this is Rayna Wyatt," he said. She put out her hand and he took it, not really shaking it, not able to take his eyes off her. He could have sworn there was a sparkle in her own eyes. "Deacon is the guy I thought could play guitar for you," Watty was saying to Rayna, but the two of them were barely paying attention.

Watty White was a smart man and he realized quickly that he had captured lightning in a bottle. He sat back and smiled to himself as he watched Rayna Wyatt and Deacon Claybourne connect that day. He knew his instincts were right and that this was a partnership for the ages.


	16. A Home

As soon as they pulled up to the house, they jumped out of the truck. They had just finished signing all the paperwork that said they were homeowners and now they were anxious to go back and see their house. It had been a surprisingly big step that caused them both to really think about what they wanted for the future. They had the cabin, of course, but that was technically Deacon's, since he was the one who paid for it. This was _their_ house, something they bought together, and it symbolized more than anything else that they were committed to each other.

It had been very late one night, after a lengthy songwriting session and some of the most uninhibited lovemaking they'd ever had, that they talked about what was next. They'd had a big year. Rayna had been nominated for her first CMA award, Deacon had successfully completed rehab almost a year earlier, and now Rayna had a headlining tour scheduled and another CMA nomination. Deacon had scored a publishing deal and so they finally had enough money to think about buying a house. They'd been living together for almost six years and it felt like it was time. The only black cloud for Rayna was that Deacon was drinking again. Not like before, but it worried her a little, in spite of the fact that Deacon insisted he wasn't really an alcoholic, just had had a problem knowing when to stop. He assured her that now he did and, by his actions, it appeared that was true. So she mostly pushed it back in her mind.

But on this beautiful sunny early fall day, they had a house, and their whole lives together in front of them. It was a cute Craftsman bungalow in East Nashville, in a neighborhood full of charming period bungalows and houses. It was a neighborhood that had fallen on tough times, but was coming back around, with lots of younger buyers eager to have a life closer to the city. It was the perfect house, they had thought. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms. A nice kitchen and living room, plus an actual dining room. And a backyard where they could sit and talk and write songs. A place to have a family.

They grabbed each other's hand and ran up the steps to the porch. Rayna loved the deep front porch and one of the first things she wanted to do was put in a porch swing. Deacon had the key and, as Rayna wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against his back, he slid in the key and opened the door to their house. He took her hand and pulled her in, kicking the door shut behind them. They stood in the empty living room, just taking it all in.

"I can't believe it's ours, babe," Rayna said, her eyes twinkling happily and a big smile on her face.

Deacon grinned at her and wrapped his arms around her. "I guess we're officially all grown up now, huh?" he said.

"I guess. We're gonna have to think about getting furniture now."

"We have the stuff in the apartment."

Rayna shrugged. "Yeah, but a lot of that stuff was crap when we got it and it's worse now." She grabbed his hands and looked up at him with a playful smile. "I want a nice comfy leather couch for in here, Deacon. Something for us to curl up on together and write songs and, you know, fool around on."

Deacon laughed, letting go of her hands and pulling her into an embrace. "I like the way you think, Ray," he said, with a wink. "But the other thing I want is a nice big bed for us in that bedroom, where I can ravish you every night."

She leaned into him. "Actually I don't have to have a big bed. I'd be fine with one just big enough for us to squeeze into together. So we can stay close all night long."

"Oh, I don't think that's gonna be much of a problem, Ray," he whispered into her ear. Then he reached for her hand and pulled her down the hall towards the master bedroom.

"Babe, I don't think there's anywhere for us to do that," she said, giggling.

Deacon turned her away from him and pressed her up against the wall. As he pushed up her skirt and reached to snag her panties down, he whispered hoarsely in her ear, "The lack of furniture has never gotten in our way before, Ray."

Rayna stepped out of her panties, breathing hard already. "Please, make love to me now, babe," she moaned, her hips twitching against him. And he did just that.

* * *

Deacon was only vaguely aware of the sun dappling over the bed through the blinds. He was fully concentrating on being in bed with Rayna. His hand was tangled up in her hair. He could feel her body against his legs, her breasts moving against the inside of his thighs. What he was most conscious of was her mouth and her tongue and her hands, doing exquisite things to him. He was moaning, alternately just sound and her name. He was conscious of loving this, loving her, and of the tension building up. He knew she was aware of it too, as her mouth and tongue teased him relentlessly. And then he exploded, shouting her name over and over. When at last he was spent, he felt her body snake up against his and she lay with her arm across his waist and her head on his chest. He put his hand on her head and then slid it down to her shoulder and he lay there, catching his breath, stroking her shoulder gently.

"God, Ray, that was amazing," he said, his voice hoarse with passion.

She turned slightly and rested her chin on his chest, so that she could look at him. Her eyes were dark with desire and she had a half-smile on her face. "I'm glad you thought so," she said.

He pulled her up so that she was lying next to him, her leg sliding in between his. He smiled at her. "I think you were right that this bed was perfect for us."

She giggled. He'd continued to talk about getting a big king-sized bed for the new house, but she had held firm that the smaller full-sized bed they had was perfect and let them stay close to each other. "Of course I was right. I'm always right," she said. She sighed happily. "I love this house so much, babe. I'm so glad we decided to get it."

"Me too, Ray," he said. "It's just what I wanted. A place for you and me. And a family."

She looked at him. "Is that what you want?"

He nodded. "I do. Do you?"

She smiled. "I do. I don't think we have to do it all right now, but yeah. I want us to raise up a family together. In this house. It's perfect."

He hugged her tightly. "_You're_ perfect."

She shook her head. "I'm not perfect, Deacon. But this, you and me, this is perfect." She leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips. "I love you so much, babe."

Deacon held her close, just concentrating on being with her. He had truly never believed he'd have a real relationship. After the experiences he'd had in his own family, he didn't think he knew how to be a good partner, not to mention a good husband and father. But Rayna made him feel like he was capable of all those things. He loved her even more than he had when they'd first met. Their bond seemed to strengthen every day.

They were passionate about everything. About their music, about their arguments, and about their lovemaking. Just as Watty had told them all those years ago, they were better together than separately. Rayna was the headliner, and Deacon was fine with that. She was the one who sparkled, who drew energy from the crowd. She was the one who could be that face with the press, glad handing and talking to anyone in the room. Those were things that still didn't come easily to him, so he was satisfied to be on the sidelines, playing guitar for her, singing harmonies with her, and writing all those hit songs with her.

He kissed the top of her head. "Do you want to get married, Ray?" he asked her softly.

She turned to look up at him. "Are you asking?" She looked surprised.

He shrugged. "I guess I was thinking, we've been together all this time. I just wondered if you wanted to."

She smiled. "I do. Some day. I don't think we have to do it now. We're still pretty young and we have careers to build." She ran her hand over his arm. "But I do want to marry you one day, babe. And have babies." She stretched up to kiss him. "You seem a little worried though."

Deacon took a deep breath. "I've never really told you about my family. How I was raised. But my parents fought for as long as I can remember. Not the kind of fighting where they'd kiss and make up, but real fighting. Then my dad got violent and started hitting my mom. And she kind of, well, she sort of withdrew. From everything. She wasn't a good mother to Beverly and me. I think that's part of why Beverly's like she is. Why her version of reality is so screwed up. We had such bad role models, Ray. I worry about little Scarlett, being raised by Beverly. I worry about being a dad to my own kids." He worked his lip for a moment. "And I worry about being a good husband to you. I don't ever want to hurt you, Ray. I mean, really hurt you."

Rayna felt tears prick at her eyes. She'd had no idea Deacon had had such a tough childhood. They had talked some about Beverly and her mood swings, but she hadn't known it was connected to this. "Babe, you're a good man. And you know that my family wasn't all that great either. My parents didn't have a really good marriage. So even growing up in Belle Meade doesn't keep that kind of stuff from happening." She snuggled in closer to him. "I don't think we have to be the kind of parents we had, babe. And we don't have to have the kind of marriage our parents had. I love you, Deacon. And I know you love me. We're good to each other. We support each other and we are partners. I don't see why it wouldn't always be that way."

"_You_ make me a better person, Ray," Deacon said, his voice rough with emotion. "I just always want to be able to love you and make you happy."

She reached up and ran her hand down his face. "You do, babe. Every day. You're all I need." She laid her head on his chest, feeling content.

Deacon sighed. He wanted to be everything she needed. He knew that he disappointed her when he drank. He knew she'd been disappointed that he'd fallen off the wagon. He kept assuring her that he just had a problem stopping, but he worried that it might be more than that. And he really didn't want to ruin their relationship. But here they were, in their own home, still together and he held on to that. Life was still very, very good in so many ways. He hoped she knew how much she meant to him.

He put his finger under her chin, raising her face to his, and he kissed her, at first gently, then with more passion. He ran his hand down her side, then back up to fondle her breast. He heard her moan as he gently stroked her. Then he pulled away from the kiss and whispered, "Now it's your turn." She smiled at him and rolled onto her back, as he moved down, laying kisses on her as he slid down and then let his mouth and tongue and fingers drive her as crazy as she had driven him earlier.


	17. I'll Be Home For Christmas

Rayna was driving home from the grocery store. It was early December and Nashville was in the midst of an atypical cold snap. Her tour was on break. She told everyone it was for the holidays, which was partially true, but it was also because Deacon was in rehab. For the second time.

After his first stint in rehab, he'd done very well. At first, he stayed away from alcohol completely. He went to meetings daily. He was committed to staying sober. He was never really convinced that he was truly an alcoholic, just that he had a problem controlling his drinking. Eventually he'd started drinking a little more. Never to excess, at best he'd get a little buzzed. His meeting attendance dropped. Over time, he drank more. Rayna blamed a lot of it on Vince. Vince was a heavy drinker and Deacon was easily led astray by him. Deacon started falling into the old patterns he'd been in before his first time in rehab – missing rehearsals, screwing up on stage, a drunk driving arrest, and more times than Rayna wanted to count that she'd had to pull him out of a bar or a hotel room when he was so wasted he could hardly walk.

Deacon knew she was angry and disappointed. They'd fight about it and then they'd make up. She'd cry and he'd make promises. Promises he often couldn't keep. So when he ended up in the emergency room after a drunken brawl the night of the CMA's, Rayna told him he was going back to rehab. Again. He begged her to reconsider, but she was firm. If he didn't go, they were through. He wasn't sure she meant that, but he couldn't take the chance, so he agreed.

Two weeks before Thanksgiving, Rayna had driven him to Riverside and checked him in. He promised that this time he'd truly make it work and they had held each other tight, Rayna crying quietly. It tore her heart out to leave him there, but she didn't know what else to do. After she left, she called Bucky and told him to reschedule the early December tour dates. Oh, and to fire Vince. She hoped that if Vince wasn't around all the time, Deacon wouldn't be tempted.

Rayna turned on the radio and found a station playing all Christmas music. She had kind of mixed feelings, since the music made her feel festive, but also drove home her loneliness. Thanksgiving at her father's had been a much quieter affair, although Lamar had still gotten his digs in about Deacon's absence. As usual, she'd left before dessert.

_I'll be home for Christmas / You can count on me / Please have snow and mistletoe / And presents 'neath the tree_

Rayna thought of Deacon, as she listened to Frank Sinatra sing the Christmas classic. He'd be home for Christmas, thankfully. She hadn't felt much in the Christmas spirit because she was so focused on him. With him not there at Thanksgiving, there was no tree in the house, their usual post-Thanksgiving dinner ritual. The house seemed empty without him and she hadn't felt like doing anything about it.

_Christmas Eve will find me / Where the love light gleams / I'll be home for Christmas / If only in my dreams _

She felt herself tear up a little. It hadn't felt much like the holidays, even with the chilly weather. She had felt a little bit like she was swimming in quicksand, unable to get her bearings or figure a way out of her sadness. The last time Deacon had gone to rehab, she'd felt more hopefulness. When he started drinking more, she'd gotten angry with him. There were times she had wondered if she hadn't been overreacting, but now she realized she had not. She realized she probably hadn't taken it seriously enough. She would definitely do things differently this time.

_Christmas Eve will find you / Where the love light gleams / I'll be home for Christmas / If only in my dreams_

She pulled up to the house and turned off the car in the middle of the song. She sat there for a moment and let the tears roll down her face and the disappointment of not having him here wash over her. He'd be home in less than two weeks. The first week he was gone, she felt such anger and fury at him for doing this again. She'd been angry at herself too for letting it get out of hand. But as time went on, her anger dissipated and was replaced, first by disappointment, and then by loneliness. She missed him. Terribly.

This time there'd been whispers. As much as she tried to keep things quiet, people noticed his unreliability. When he'd miss a gig, it was obvious. When he missed a riff or lost his place in a song, people heard it. She and Bucky were the only ones that knew he was in rehab. Except, of course, for Tandy and Lamar. There were times when she wondered if she ought not to cut him loose. The stress was wearing on her. But the bottom line was that she loved him and she couldn't imagine her life without him in it. She had to believe in him, support him, have faith that he would beat it this time.

Rayna sighed and, grabbing her bags, got out of the car and hurried up the steps to the house. When she opened the door to the empty house, the tears started again. She put the bags on the counter, sat at the kitchen table, and sobbed. She didn't want this to be her life, it _couldn't_ be her life. She wasn't going to let it.

* * *

The week before Deacon's release date, Rayna woke up feeling determined. She'd been on such a roller coaster for the last three weeks, her emotions skipping wildly from anger to sorrow to depression to resentment and back again. She was determined that this time Deacon would get well. She'd fired Vince. She knew that wouldn't keep him completely out of Deacon's life, but at least he wouldn't be there 24/7. She started going around the house, opening every cabinet, every closet, looking under every single piece of furniture, looking for any place he might have hidden liquor. She even went up in the attic, which she usually avoided because of spiders and bugs. She found herself weeping as she pulled bottle after bottle out of a hiding place, lining them up on the kitchen counter. She went outside and looked in every nook and cranny she could reach in the shed, checked for loose stones in the foundation. When she was through, she had fourteen bottles lined up, in various stages of fullness.

"Damn it, Deacon," she whispered brokenly, but then she took a deep breath and emptied every single bottle into the sink. Then she rinsed each one and took them out to the trash. When she was done she felt relief and a little bit of hope. She grabbed a well-worn throw and curled up on the couch. It was three weeks until Christmas and she hadn't done a thing. Last Christmas had been their first in this house and they had decorated with all the things they'd accumulated in the few years since their first tree trimming. The house looked dark and forlorn and Rayna decided she needed to brighten it up.

She threw back the blanket and rushed upstairs to find all the boxes of ornaments and decorations, pulling them downstairs one by one. She thought about whether she wanted to wait for Deacon to get a tree and then decided that she wanted to have everything look festive and happy for his homecoming. So she threw on a jacket and picked up her purse, hurrying down the steps to Deacon's truck. As she drove to the nearby tree lot, she turned on the Christmas station and found herself, finally, smiling a little. Deacon would be home for Christmas and not just in her dreams.

* * *

This time when Rayna went to pick up Deacon at Riverside, she went inside instead of waiting in the parking lot. She sat in the waiting area, tapping her feet nervously. Then she saw him come around the corner. He didn't see her at first. She stood up. "Deacon," she called out softly.

He turned towards her voice and his heart leapt into his throat. He was surprised she'd come inside; these days people knew her and he was sure someone here would have recognized her. He drank her in with his eyes at first. She was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, along with her red boots. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wasn't wearing makeup. But her smile lit up her face and she was still beautiful to him. He walked towards her and she ran into his arms. He buried his face in her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. He could feel her arms around his neck. "I missed you so much," he whispered.

She pulled back slightly and smiled up at him. "I missed you too, babe." She kissed him. "Are you ready to go home?"

He looked deeply into her eyes, as though he were searching for something. "Ray, I promise this is the last time for this. I'm so sorry I disappointed you."

She ran her fingers through his hair and looked at him thoughtfully. "I know. I'm sorry too. But we'll do this together, okay?"

He nodded, his face solemn. She smiled at him, then reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. They turned and walked out of Riverside, they both hoped for the last time.

* * *

When they got to the house, they hurried up the steps. Deacon kept stopping and pulling her into an embrace, kissing her hard. Rayna smiled and laughed at his joy at being home. He looked really good, his eyes clear, his face relaxed. He smelled like Deacon, clean and a little musky, the good Deacon smell. He was smiling. It had been so long since she'd really seen him smile. When they got to the porch, she stopped and grabbed his arm.

"Close your eyes," she said.

"What?" He laughed at her.

She smirked. "Close your eyes," she repeated. "And don't open them until I tell you."

He shook his head, with a puzzled smile on his face. "Okay," he said, and closed his eyes, putting his hand across them for good measure.

Rayna took his arm and walked him in the house. "Not yet," she said. She let go of his arm and went and plugged in the tree lights and the little white lights around the fireplace. She took a quick second to admire her handiwork and then walked back over to Deacon, taking his arm again. "Okay. You can look now."

When he moved his hand and opened his eyes, his mouth dropped open in surprise and his eyes got wide. Rayna had bought a tree and decorated it. There was a small mountain of presents underneath. She'd put garland wrapped in tiny white lights on the fireplace mantle, along with some of her favorite holiday decorations. The lights on the tree were twinkling merrily. He turned to look at her, her face full of joy as she looked up at him. He put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Then he leaned his forehead against hers. "Wow, baby, this is beautiful," he whispered.

She slid her arms around his waist and pulled herself against him. "Merry Christmas, babe. I'm so glad you're home."

He pulled her against him and leaned his head on top of hers. "Me too. I missed you so bad, Ray." When he pulled back and looked in her eyes, his own were glistening with tears. "This wasn't s'posed to happen, Ray. I wasn't s'posed to go back there. I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "No, you weren't. But this time's for keeps, I know it is. It'll all be better this time." She kissed him. "I'm proud of you, Deacon. For admitting you had a problem and working to fix it." She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair and down his cheek. "Let's just move forward, okay?"

He nodded, then took her hand and pulled her over to the couch. They sat snuggled up to each other, watching the twinkling lights. Rayna started to sing. _I'll be home for Christmas / You can count on me / Please have snow and mistletoe / And presents 'neath the tree._

Deacon wrapped his arms around her tighter and joined in. _Christmas Eve will find me / Where the love light gleams / I'll be home for Christmas / If only in my dreams._ He kissed her cheek and she nestled in closer to him. "Merry Christmas, baby," he whispered in her ear. She turned in his arms and he started to kiss her, which eventually led to him slowly undressing her and her doing the same to him. As the Christmas lights continued to twinkle in the darkened room, Deacon made sweet, passionate love to Rayna. Darkness fell as they held each other tight. They stayed up all night, making up for lost time, bathed in the glow of tiny lights. Because Deacon was, in fact, home for Christmas.


	18. The Nosebleed Section

"_Are you lost?"_

"_Hey! Deacon and I used to come up to the nosebleeds before every show. It was our ritual."_

"_Did you make out?" Rayna smirks and shrugs. "Well, it's a legitimate question." _

"_We came up here to remind ourselves that people paid good money for these seats even though they weren't ever gonna be that close to the music. We wanted to remind ourselves to play out to 'em." – Rayna and Liam, S1, episode 10_

When the bus pulled up at the United Center in Chicago, Rayna was the first one off. Deacon was right behind her and she pulled at his hand. "Oh, my God, Deacon, I can't believe it!" she cried. "We're actually going to be onstage in an arena!" She smiled up at him and then wrapped her arms around his waist.

Deacon picked her up and twirled her around until she squealed at him to put her down. He was grinning from ear to ear. "Baby, this is the big time!" he cried. "You made it!"

She reached her hands up and placed them on either side of his neck, bringing him down to kiss her. "We haven't made it yet," she said, when he finally broke the kiss. "But after tonight, we'll be on the map!"

They hurried inside through the performer's entrance and then Rayna trotted out towards the stage, with Deacon following behind. When she got to the middle of the stage, she looked out. Some of the lights were on, but not so many that she couldn't see around the arena. It took her breath away. She hadn't stood in front of this many seats ever. Not even close. She and Deacon had been guest artists at The Grand Ole Opry several times and that was the biggest venue they'd ever played. This was something special. It was her dream and now she stood at the place she'd always imagined herself to be.

Deacon stood behind her and put his arms around her. "This place is huge!" he said. "I can't imagine what it will look like when it's full."

Rayna folded her hands over his, at her waist, and leaned into him. She took a deep breath. "I don't think I've ever even been in a place this big, even to see a show. They didn't have a place this big in Nashville when I was growing up."

"Well, I definitely haven't," Deacon said.

Rayna squinted as she looked past the lights to the upper decks. "Wow, babe, look at those seats way up there by the ceiling. Can you imagine going to a concert and having to sit up there?"

"You know, those seats aren't cheap either," he said. "I wonder what we look like from way up there?"

Rayna turned her head to look up at him. "Small, I would guess," she said and made a face. "They probably have to watch the whole show on the big screens."

"That kinda sucks," Deacon said. He seemed to be rolling something over in his head. "How much time do we have before sound check?"

Rayna pulled out of his embrace and turned to face him. "About an hour and a half or so. What are you thinking about, babe?" She smiled sweetly.

Deacon grinned at her appreciatively. "I know what you're thinking, baby," he said with a wink. "But what about if we go up to the nosebleed section? Just to see what it looks like from up there?"

"I guess we could."

"Let's do it then." Deacon grabbed her by the hand and they walked off the stage and then found the stairs to the balcony. They found a row not far from the top and Deacon pulled her down to the middle of the section and they sat next to each other, holding hands.

There were a handful of roadies on the stage setting up equipment. Rayna was surprised at how small they looked from where they sat. "Wow, babe," she said. "We're a long way from the stage."

"How much do you think tickets cost up here?"

Rayna shrugged. "For George Strait? I don't know. Maybe forty-five dollars?"

Deacon chewed his lip and nodded. "I'm thinking at least that." He swung his arm out. "So we need to keep in mind that we're not just playing for the people on the floor, but for the people up here too. For some people, this is all they can afford, and we want to give them the same great experience as the people who paid a couple hundred bucks for their ticket." He looked at Rayna. "I think we should come up here every show, just to remind ourselves to play for these people too."

Rayna looked at him. "I think that's a great idea."

Then Deacon's face got a playful look and he pulled her over to sit on his lap. "Plus we can make out up here without anyone seeing us."

Rayna squealed as he pulled her over and then laughed. "Another great idea," she said with a smile. She leaned down to kiss him. He tugged at her lip and she opened her mouth to him as the kiss intensified. Deacon slid his hand up under her blouse and unfastened her bra. Then he moved his hand to cup her breast and ran his thumb over her nipple. She moaned as she squirmed on his lap. He took his lips from hers and bent down to put his mouth on her breast, arousing her further. She threaded her fingers through his hair as she breathed in deeply, feeling his tongue dancing across her nipple.

She moaned deep in her throat. "Oh, babe, I need you," she whispered, and then he took his mouth away from her, letting her stand on shaky legs. She took his hand and pulled him up from the seat and they hurried to find a more private spot to cap off what would become their ritual at every arena show they performed in together.


	19. The Gift

_**I wrote a brief reference to what happens in this chapter in a one-shot story called "The Gift", but this expands on it.**_

Rayna and Deacon walked into Sound Check, holding hands. They were on a week's break from Vince Gill's tour. Rayna was the opener instead of opening for the opener like she had on George Strait's tour. She hoped it would lead to bigger things but it hadn't so far. Her second album was selling well, she'd charted three singles from it so far. She'd been nominated for a CMA. She'd been called "the future of country music" but she'd also been labeled not traditional country enough. Which pissed her off.

But today was a good day. "Changing Ground" had hit number two on the country charts. She and Deacon had performed it in studio on the WSM morning show that day. And she and Deacon had had awesome sex at dawn. They were both smiling and feeling good about life. Rayna was surprised, as they walked up, to see Watty sitting with Bucky.

"Watty!" she cried, dropping Deacon's hand and rushing over to greet her mentor. Watty stood up and she threw her arms around him. "It's been too long!" she said.

"How are you, my little songbird?" he asked, smiling at her. Deacon had walked up behind her and Watty reached out and shook his hand. "Hey, Deacon," he said.

"Hey, Watty. Good to see you." He was curious why Watty was there. He rarely came to one of their rehearsals. He followed their careers closely and was always willing to offer advice and counsel, but he was a busy man. For him to take time out of his day to be here meant there was something big afoot.

Bucky was about to explode with excitement. "Rayna, I've got great news," he said, in a teasing tone with a hug smile on his face.

Rayna looked at him with a puzzled smile. "What?"

Bucky looked at Watty and then back at her. "Well, after you finish up this tour with Vince, Edgehill wants to promote you to headliner. Your own tour."

Rayna's eyes popped open and she gasped. "Are you serious?" she asked. Bucky nodded. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" She turned to Deacon and grabbed his arm. "Oh, my God!" she cried again.

Deacon put his arms around her and swung her around, then kissed her hard. "You did it, baby," he whispered into her ear. "You made it!" She squealed with excitement and he laughed out loud.

When Deacon put her down, Rayna ran to Bucky and hugged him. "So tell me all the details," she said excitedly, clapping her hands.

"Well, it's for sixty dates across the country. Medium-sized venues, like four thousand to sixty-five hundred seats in large and medium-sized cities. Starting in the fall." He gave her a "we made it" kind of smile and continued, "We've got a lot of planning to do. I've got to get the venues booked. We need a band."

Rayna whirled around to Deacon. "A band!" she cried. "Babe, a band!" He grinned at her and she turned back to Bucky. "Deacon can put that together. He can be the bandleader and get us a great band."

Bucky nodded. He was a little worried about putting that much responsibility on Deacon, although he respected his music smarts. Deacon could still be undependable at the worst possible moments. But they could certainly work on it together. "Sure," he said. "He can do that. We can work out some auditions when y'all are back here in Nashville the next time."

Rayna had a hard time concentrating on rehearsal after the news and she was still on cloud nine when she and Deacon finally left for home. All the hard work, all the long bus rides and shows at small dive bars, putting up with hecklers and struggling to stay positive, it was all paying off. She was finally going to be doing what she'd dreamed of all those years ago in her pink and white bedroom in Belle Meade. She was finally going to be doing what she'd told her mama she wanted to do. She was going to be a country music star.

* * *

Rayna reluctantly moved out of Deacon's arms so she could get out of bed. "Where you going, baby?" he asked sleepily. They were home again after finishing up Vince's tour. Now they were working on putting a band together, getting a longer set list finalized, and rehearsing for Rayna's first headline tour. They'd be going out in a month and had been running on adrenaline ever since they'd been home. They'd worked some of that off the night before and had finally fallen asleep just before dawn, exhausted but sated.

She turned her head and smiled. "I'll be right back," she said.

He smiled and admired her perfect little ass as she scampered out of the room. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed, a smile on his face, and he thought of her perfect body and her soft skin and how sweet she smelled. He thought about how her skin felt under his fingers, how her lips felt against his, and how good it felt to be inside her. He could feel himself start to get aroused, when she walked back in the room.

She stood for a moment in the doorway, completely naked except for something draped across her chest. He pushed himself up on his elbows and watched as she raised her arms over her head and sashayed enticingly towards him. Then she put one knee on the bed and, leaning over on her hands, started crawling over to him, pulling back the covers.

She winked. "Good. You're all ready for me," she purred. She moved to straddle him and that's when he realized that she was wearing a guitar strap with his name engraved on it. His eyes widened.

"What's this?" He reached up to finger it gently.

She leaned down and kissed him, the strap resting against his chest. He fondled one of her breasts. Then she leaned back and smiled. "It's for you. For our own headline tour," she said. "I had it made for you."

He smiled. "Wow, Ray, that's amazing. You're amazing. I can't believe you did this."

"I'm glad you like it," she said. "I wouldn't be where I am today without you. There's no Rayna Jaymes without Deacon Claybourne. You know that." Then she took off the strap and tossed it aside. "I need you right now, babe," she groaned. She reached down between her legs and took him in her hand and guided him inside her as he groaned with pleasure. He put his hands on her hips and she leaned down and kissed him. "I love you," she whispered, and then proceeded to show him how much.

* * *

Much later, as they lay wrapped in each other's arms, Deacon reached out and grabbed the guitar strap that was lying at the head of the bed. He draped it across the two of them and reverently rubbed his thumb over the engraved letters. He smiled at Rayna and kissed her lightly. "I can't believe you did this, Ray," he said.

She smiled and kissed him back. "Deacon, I know I'm the headliner, but I really feel like this is really the two of us together. Maybe I would have gotten here without you, but I truly don't think I would have done it this quickly. And maybe not at all. You make me so much better. Watty was right, even though I didn't want to believe him back then. I needed a guitar player and I needed someone to write with, but mostly I needed you. I knew that the very first day we worked together."

He grinned. "Really? 'Cause it seemed to me you were fighting it hard back then."

She blushed as she smiled shyly. "Yeah, I know. I thought I knew so much back then. But I'm glad Watty made me give you a chance." She reached up and ran her fingers down his cheek. "Not only did I get a partner, but I found my one true love." She kissed him again. "This wouldn't be happening without you, babe, and I wanted you to have something special when we go out on the stage for the first time as the main act."

Deacon wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her on the forehead. "You and me, Ray. For eternity."

Rayna nestled her head against his chest, feeling content in his arms. "For eternity," she whispered.


	20. The End Of The Day

_I'm quittin' the bottle at the end of the day / Wanna be there for heaven when it opens the gate / I'll give up the lying if you're gonna stay / I'll be quittin' at the end of the day_

Deacon laid on the bed with his hands behind his head. The bed was hard and uncomfortable. He missed his bed at home. More than that, he missed being in that bed with Rayna. He'd been here sixty days. Today was his last day; he was going home tomorrow.

Rayna had sent him to Hazelden this time, instead of Riverside, which was closer to home. She had sent him for sixty days, hoping that the extra time would make the difference. When she had picked him up at the hospital after he'd come close to dying from alcohol poisoning, her face had been grim and her eyes cold. He'd never seen her like this. Sure, she had gotten mad before, but she always looked at him with compassion. This time had been different.

"I'm really sorry, baby," he'd said when they got to the car. "I know you're mad…."

Rayna had whipped her head around and walked back to where he stood by the passenger door, her eyes flashing with anger. "Mad doesn't begin to cover it, Deacon. This is embarrassing. If I'm not pulling you out of a bar or a hotel room, so wasted I'm afraid you're dead, then I'm checking you out of a hospital or bailing you out of jail. And this time you really did nearly die." Her voice was brittle. "You look like hell and you smell like vomit and sweat. I can't do this anymore. We won't survive it. _You_ won't survive it."

Deacon knew she was frustrated and angry, but he thought she supported him. Loved him anyway. He was sorry to disappoint her but angry himself that she seemed so uncaring. "So, what, you're dumping me? You don't want me anymore?" he asked, scowling.

Rayna rolled her eyes. "Deacon, I love you. And I will do anything I can to help you. But you have to help yourself. I can't do this alone anymore." She looked up at him and he was struck by how tired she looked. "Something has to change."

He felt a little desperate, worried she was going to cut him loose. "I'll do anything, baby. Please tell me what to do," he begged, grabbing her hand.

She snatched her hand away. "You're going back to rehab," she said firmly. "Not Riverside this time, but a place in Minnesota. For sixty days. You have _got_ to fix this, Deacon. This is your last chance. I'm not going to do this anymore."

Deacon clenched his fists. He didn't want to go back to one of those places. He didn't want to sleep on scratchy sheets or eat bland food or have to share his story over and over. He didn't want to meet with counselors and groups that tried to convince him he was an alcoholic. He didn't want to be so far away from Rayna for sixty days. "I can do this on my own, baby," he said, his jaw clenched. "Don't send me away, Ray. I promise, I'll do this. I'll stop drinking. Now."

Rayna sighed. "No, you won't. You'll want to and you'll try at first. But you can't do this on your own." She started to cry. "Damn it, Deacon. This is killing us. I want you to get better, but I can't keep doing this. I need you to make this work."

He felt his own tears pricking at his eyes. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. "I promise, Ray. I'll do this. For you. But don't leave me."

At first she had just let him hold her, but then she put her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. "I just want you to get better, babe," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I don't want to lose you."

He smoothed her hair, feeling her sweet body pressed against his. He couldn't lose her. "I promise, Ray," he whispered. "I'm gonna change. I'm gonna be the man you want me to be. I promise."

* * *

_Don't say it's over / I'll fix what I've done / Gonna lay down beside you / Gonna lay down my gun / The struggle ain't over, but I hope you will stay / 'Cause I'll be quittin' at the end of the day_

So he'd gone back to rehab. Coleman had gone with him to check him in. He had managed to stay away from booze the last three days he was in Nashville. He and Rayna had stayed home those three days and spent most of it in bed. He missed her so much. He missed her soft skin pressed against his, her hair that smelled of springtime, the way her fingers felt as they traced the line of his jaw. He missed her voice, her laugh, her smile. The way her eyes twinkled when she looked at him and then turned dark and sultry with her need for him.

He'd gone through that first week of torture, getting the alcohol out of his system. He'd spent time in group sessions and with his counselor. He'd taken Rayna's words to heart and made a committed effort to deal with his issues. He had finally acknowledged he _was_ a drunk, not just someone with a drinking problem. And he wrote. He had to keep a journal, but he also wrote songs. In particular, one he wrote for Rayna, that he hoped he'd get a chance to sing for her. His promise to her.

Rehab was mind numbing in its insistence on ritual. Constantly focusing inward could be tedious and painful. Deacon realized that the previous two times he'd gone, the messages had not sunk in and he'd left not really knowing what to do next. This time it felt like he did. But he had too much time to worry about Rayna. Wondering what would happen to them when he got out. Whenever he talked to her on the phone, he imagined that her voice was distant, that she only said "I love you" because he did. She came to visit three times while he was there and, although they held hands and she kissed him and hugged him and smiled at him, he imagined that she was pulling away. He tried to convince himself that he was just being paranoid, that he was reading more into the situations than was really there. It was hard to be apart, it was hard to recreate their intimacy in a short window of time, he kept telling himself that.

He counted the days until he'd be back in Nashville. He grabbed on to every word she spoke, whether it was on the phone or in person, every word she wrote in the letters she sent to him regularly. He looked for hints of where things stood, but he found himself preparing for the worst. Now as he lay in his bed on his last night, he wondered if she would be there at the airport when he got home. She'd said she would be, but he would believe it when he saw her.

* * *

_I'm done with the cheating that drove you away / But you'll give me forgiveness if I promise to change / I told you it's over so what else can I say? / I'll be quittin' at the end of the day_

Coleman came to Minneapolis to bring him home. They spoke little, Coleman seeming to understand that he needed time with his own thoughts. The flight home was long, with a connection in Chicago. It was his first real test. When the flight attendants came by with the drink carts, he felt the craving for a drink. He focused on all he could lose if he didn't fight the urge. He walked by too many bars at the Chicago airport, places that beckoned him. But he focused, kept thinking about Rayna, waiting for him. Finally they were in Nashville. He had thought he'd be running through the airport, but he found himself dawdling, worrying about whether she would be waiting for him.

He rode down the escalator to baggage claim, his heart in his throat. His stomach hurt. He scanned the people waiting at the bottom, but he didn't see her. His heart sank. He swallowed hard over a lump in his throat. He thought he probably deserved it, that he hadn't ever deserved her, and now she wasn't here.

He was almost at the bottom of the escalator when he saw her, rushing in the door, her red-gold hair shimmering around her shoulders. She saw him and she smiled, a big, happy smile. She ran into his arms as he walked off the escalator, hugging him tightly. Coleman walked off, leaving the two of them together.

"Oh, babe, I'm so glad you're home," she whispered into his neck. "I've missed you so much." She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and then she kissed him. He kissed her back, with all the pent-up longing and emotions of sixty days away. He held her close, not wanting to let her go, not wanting to take his lips off hers.

When he finally did break the kiss, he whispered hoarsely into her ear, "I love you, Ray. I don't ever want to leave you again."

She cupped his face in her hands and she smiled at him, a huge, beaming smile. "I don't want you to leave again either." She kissed him lightly. "Let's go home."

And then they walked out of the airport, arms around each other, hopeful that they were back on track and that this time was the time that worked.

_Hold on a couple more hours / I'll be home ready to lay in your arms / Don't change your mind / Don't say it's over / I will fix what I've done / Gonna lay down beside you / Gonna lay down my gun / The struggle ain't over but I hope you will stay / 'Cause I'm quittin' at the end of the day_

**A/N: So this one was more angsty, I know. This is the last of the one shots before Deacon got sober, because, in my mind, most of what happens between the two of them during that time period from after the third rehab until Rayna marries Teddy is probably not full of joy and happiness. Starting with the next chapter, I have a short series of one shots from after Maddie is born leading up to when Deacon and Rayna sing "No One Will Ever Love You" at the Bluebird in episode 2 of season 1. Then I have an epilogue and it's done. Thanks for reading and for your reviews!**


	21. 365 Days And A Job Offer

_**There's still some drama in this one, but there's some hopefulness too.**_

Rayna felt frustrated and anxious. She'd been back in rehearsals for three weeks and she'd already gone through five lead guitarists. Three of them had quit on her, two she had fired, one after only a day. She knew she was a perfectionist and she was trying hard to be flexible and lower her standards a bit, but even then everyone she tried was just, well, awful. _I guess that's what happens when you've worked with the best._

She had rushed off the stage as soon as rehearsal was over, back to the room where Maddie was with her sitter. She'd sent the woman on her way and practically cried with relief when she opened her blouse and her nursing bra and put Maddie to her breast. She'd started trying to wean her, in anticipation of touring, but she had loved this part of being Maddie's mama and loved the closeness, so it was hard to give it up.

She watched her little girl hungrily sucking on her breast and smiled. She ran her finger over Maddie's silky dark hair and suddenly felt tears threaten. She frowned and concentrated on pushing them back. It did no good to dwell on things, to think about Deacon not knowing about Maddie.

She pushed all that out of her mind and concentrated on her perfect baby girl. Maddie was just shy of six months old and she'd been an absolute dream. She rarely cried and she slept well and ate well. She was a happy baby and Rayna and Teddy had doted on her since she was born. She murmured softly to the baby and then moved her to the other breast.

Rayna had taken time off since before Maddie was born and was now ready to get back to her career. She was working on an album and then planned to hit the road to tour just before Maddie turned one. She had someone lined up already to care for her baby who was working out well. If only she could solve her guitarist dilemma as easily.

While Maddie nursed, Rayna ran through the difficulties she'd had settling on a lead guitarist. The rest of the members of her band were ready and willing to return, but when she had fired Deacon that day, when all she could think about was their baby inside of her, she'd intended it to be for good. She couldn't imagine, especially now that she was married to Teddy and had made the decisions she had about Maddie, being able to work with Deacon again. And yet, nothing was working without him.

Just then there was a knock on the door and Bucky burst in without waiting for her response. "Rayna, we need to…Oh, God." Bucky turned his back on her. "I'm sorry," he said.

Rayna laughed softly. "It's okay. I should have locked the door." She reached over to Maddie's baby bag and pulled out the drape she normally used. She awkwardly pulled it around her shoulders and arranged it to cover herself. "Okay, I'm good."

Bucky turned slowly, his face beet red. He laughed shakily. "I know I've seen worse, but I'm still sorry."

Rayna blushed. Yes, he had. He'd walked in on her and Deacon in various stages of undress and even while they were making love. Occupational hazard, she supposed. "So, what's up, Buck?" she asked.

Bucky looked grim, shaking his head. "I don't think this latest guy's going to stick around. He's already complaining to some of the others."

Rayna rolled her eyes. "Really? Fire him then."

Bucky scratched his head. "I can do that, but we need a plan. We can't keep doing this, Rayna. You're going in the studio in two weeks and we need a lead guitar."

Rayna moved Maddie out from under the drape and settled her on her shoulder, lightly rubbing her on her back. Maddie let out a loud, lusty burp and Rayna grinned. "I don't know where she gets that from," she said with a laugh. She gave Maddie a kiss, then put her in the car seat at her feet, murmuring softly to the baby. She looked back up at Bucky, her face serious. "What do you suggest?"

Bucky lifted his eyebrows. "You won't like it, but I think you should call Deacon. I know he's available."

Rayna felt like she'd had a knife to her heart, hearing Deacon's name out loud. She knew he was back in Nashville, had heard he was doing well after the six month rehab program she'd put him through. This had been his fifth try at this. She felt embarrassed by that, both for him and for herself. She had no clue if he could make this work, but she'd given him his best chance this time. "I don't know, Buck," she said slowly. "I really don't think that's a very good idea."

"I know it's not ideal, but we don't have a lot of time. And you know he could fit in quickly. He knows everyone in the band. He knows you and your style. He's a quick study, so he'd learn all the new stuff in no time."

Rayna looked at Bucky sadly. "It would be hard, I think. For both of us, but maybe especially for him. It won't be the way it used to be. He may not even be interested. I don't even know if _I_ want to do it."

Bucky shrugged. "Well, at least think about it. Let me know by tomorrow though." Rayna nodded. He opened the door. "Oh, and sorry again about busting in on you."

Rayna gave him a small smile. "It's okay." After Bucky left, she took off the drape and got dressed. She looked down at Maddie, fast asleep in her car seat. She kept thinking about what Bucky said about hiring Deacon back. It was a very bad idea, she knew. Teddy would hate it. The idea of him being around Maddie scared her. But she was kind of out of options. And Bucky made a lot of sense. Deacon _was_ the best. He could do this. The real question was, would he, and she was pretty sure she knew the answer to that. She took a deep breath. "Maddie, Mama's probably a fool for doing this, but I think Uncle Bucky's right. I'm going to have to call Deacon. I just hope I don't regret this."

She sat for a while longer, then got up and walked over to retrieve her phone from her purse. She called Teddy first and told him she and Maddie would be leaving soon. Then she scrolled to Deacon's name. She hesitated. She wasn't sure this was a good idea at all, but she really was kind of desperate. She hit "call" and lifted the phone to her ear.

After two rings, he answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, Deacon," she said after a pause.

"Hey, Rayna." He sounded both surprised and happy.

Rayna squeezed her eyes shut. His voice sounded so good. She had missed him so much. _This is such a really bad idea. _ She cleared her throat. "Um, how are you?"

"I'm good. Really good." He paused. "I never got to thank you. But I really appreciate…what you did. I know you didn't have to." He paused again. "How are you? How's the baby?"

Rayna looked down at Maddie and felt a wave of sadness roll over her, but she pushed it back and smiled to herself. "She's great. We're great. But, um, what I called about is…well, it seems I need a lead guitar player. Someone who can work with me, since I am apparently a real diva."

Deacon laughed softly. "You always were a diva, Ray."

Hearing him call her by that nickname caught her heart. He was the only one who called her that. She laughed a little though. "Well, anyway, are you available? Professionally, that is."

Deacon breathed in slowly. He knew he and Rayna were over, but he still missed her. He hadn't expected her to ask him back into her band. He thought that door had been completely shut. "Yeah, yeah, I am."

"Can you, uh, meet me tomorrow? About ten?"

"Sure. Where?"

"The usual place. I just want us to be sure before we agree to this. Okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Ray. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Deacon," she said softly, although he'd already disconnected. She looked down at Maddie and hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake.

* * *

The next day Rayna dressed carefully. She put on jeans, a white button down shirt, and a suede jacket. She pulled on her boots. She wanted to look business-like, professional, even though they were meeting at a picnic table along the river. The place where they always went to talk. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and put in the pearl studs Teddy had given her when Maddie was born.

She was nervous but excited and got there early. She smiled a little when she saw Deacon was already there. She got out of the car and then started down the hill. Deacon stood up and turned to watch her. She felt her breath catch in her throat and she had butterflies in her stomach. She wondered if she would ever not get butterflies when she saw him. He looked great, a little thinner, but great. His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, just as hers were. Probably a good thing.

She hopped up on the table and he sat back down next to her, almost touching her. She threaded her arm through his. "Hey," she said.

He smiled. "Hey. You look great."

She wrinkled her nose. "I finally got rid of the baby weight. So that helps."

"How's your little girl? Maddie, right?"

Rayna nodded. "Yeah, Maddie. She's amazing. Best baby ever." She laughed. "Not that I have much to compare her to, but she is great." She lightly bit her lip. It made her heart hurt to talk about Maddie as though she wasn't Deacon's flesh-and-blood. "If we work together again, you'll meet her."

Deacon nodded. "I'm sure she's as pretty as her mama." He'd always thought he and Rayna would be the ones to have babies together, not Rayna and someone else. He wasn't sure how he'd feel about Teddy's daughter.

Rayna breathed in. She thought she needed to get to the business at hand. She pulled her arm free from his and clasped her hands together, leaning forward a bit as she rested her arms on her legs. "So, I'm in a bind, because I go into the studio in two weeks. You understand me and we've always worked together well." She looked over at him.

He was looking out towards the horizon. "Yeah."

"I'd like for you to come back to my band, Deacon, as my bandleader and lead guitarist. But…it's a professional ask. That's all it can be."

He looked back at her. "I know."

"Can you do that, Deacon? I'm married now, so all we can ever be is friends. I want you to come back. I want to give you this chance. But I need for us to be clear on that."

"How will, um, Teddy feel?"

Rayna shrugged and looked down at her hands. "I think he will hate it. I think he'll be against it. But it's my decision."

"I don't want to cause a problem for you," he said quietly.

"You won't. If you honor the boundary. I can handle Teddy." She looked at him. "Can you do that?"

Deacon was silent for a long time, working his lip. "I can do it. I'll be honest, it won't be easy. But working with you is what I do. It's what I want to do for a long time to come."

Rayna was quiet for a moment. "I want this to work, Deacon. We have a lot of history together and that might be hard for both of us. But I'm here for you. I support you. I want us to make this work," she said quietly.

Deacon nodded. "Three hundred sixty five days," he said.

"What?"

He looked at her. "Today I've been sober three hundred and sixty five days. One year since I had my last drink, my last pill. I'm going to beat this thing, Ray. This time."

Rayna took a deep breath. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes and willed them away. "I want you to, Deacon. And congratulations. I'm so glad you've made it a year." She moved to get off the table and Deacon stood up as well. "I need to get home to my baby. But I'm glad you're doing so well. And I'm glad we're going to be working together again."

Deacon stood with his hands in his pockets, a pensive look on his face. "Me too."

"Can you make rehearsal this afternoon? At two?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Rayna stood for a moment just looking at him. He looked amazing. It had been a long time since he'd looked this good, without the smell of booze and sweat and sick. It made her wonder, again, what if. But it was too late for that. She took a step forward and opened her arms to hug him. He hesitated just for a moment, then stepped forward and let her envelop him.

"I've missed you, Deacon," she said, breathing in the smell of him. "I'm glad you're back."

He couldn't make his mouth form any words. Holding her like this was heartbreaking, knowing he'd have to let her go. But he was glad to have the chance to rebuild things with her.

They let go of each other. She looked up at him, squinting against the sun, in spite of her sunglasses. "It's good to have you back," she said again, with a smile. "I'll see you later."

Deacon nodded and then watched her walk back up the hill to her car.

* * *

He'd wanted to be angry at her, wanted to confront her with the fact that she hadn't waited for him this time. That she'd given up this time. But he knew two things were true. One was that she was already involved with Teddy, even before he'd gone to rehab the fourth time. He'd hoped it wasn't serious, kept stopping by her apartment, even when she'd tell him not to. He'd thought they still had a chance, because sometimes she would kiss him, even though she wouldn't let it go further than that. The second, though, was that she had told him it was finally over for good before she'd sent him off to rehab the last time.

He remembered that she'd met him at Sound Check. She looked awful, her eyes red with tears, her face pale. She had told him, loudly, that he'd run out of chances with her, both personally and professionally. That he had destroyed his reputation by showing up drunk, missing shows, with too many stops at jails and hospitals. And then blacking out to the point that that she couldn't carry him anymore. He was fired from her band, they were done for good as a couple, and she was sending him to rehab one last time. She told him if he didn't make it work this time, that he'd probably end up dead. Oh, and that she was marrying Teddy.

He'd stormed out, after calling her every vile name in the book. That was the last thing he remembered until Coleman picked him up at the jail. Coleman told him he'd gotten drunk, destroyed Rayna's apartment, and she'd called the police. He'd truly hit rock bottom. And he'd finally been scared.

He sat back down on the table. He took off his sunglasses and rubbed the tears from his eyes. He had realized later that she was already pregnant with Maddie when she'd fired him. That had hurt like a knife to the gut, to know that she'd really already moved on, just like she'd said.

He knew she wanted to be a mama. They'd talked about it now and again, getting married and having a family. But she'd always told him they weren't ready or that her career was the most important thing right then. One of the things he'd realized this last time in rehab was that her reluctance was because of him, because she couldn't depend on him. She'd been ready with Conrad, so it wasn't that she wasn't ready. It was him. He'd fucked up the best thing he'd ever had in his life.

She looked great. She looked relaxed, happy, younger somehow. He felt bad thinking about the pain he'd caused her for all those years. But this time would be different, he promised himself. He was doing this for her. He would honor her boundaries. For now. But he knew the minute he saw her that she was still the love of his life. And he was pretty sure she still felt the same way. In spite of Teddy and their daughter.

He was going to show her he could do this. And one day he hoped she would be able to see that and believe in it. And him. He was going to win her back.

He headed up to his truck. He really needed to go to a meeting.

* * *

Rayna headed for home. Seeing Deacon had been hard. She had cried herself to sleep every night for a year after she'd found out she was pregnant and had made the decision that she couldn't tell him about the baby. She'd finally stopped doing that, when Maddie was about three months old. She'd had to move on. But Maddie looked so much like Deacon to her and that still hurt her heart every day, that they couldn't share that. Would never share that.

He'd looked good though. She couldn't remember the last time he'd looked this good. He seemed healthy and strong. She thought the last time he would have looked like this was after the second rehab. After that, it had really just been a steady downhill march to where things had ultimately, finally ended, with her cutting him out of her life that day at Sound Check.

She wanted to believe in him this time. Three hundred and sixty-five days was longer than he'd ever made it completely sober. He'd been close before, but this felt a little like a hurdle he'd crossed that signaled things might be different this time. She sighed. Teddy would not be happy she was taking him back, but she felt good about her decision. There'd be no Rayna Jaymes without Deacon Claybourne. She'd said that at least a hundred times, mostly in response to those who'd wanted her to abandon him over the years. But it was true. She was better with him. Watty had seen it all those years ago and he'd been right.

So, professionally she felt good about her decision. But she'd known, the second she'd laid eyes on him and throughout their conversation and at the end of the hug they probably shouldn't have indulged in. _I still love him. I will always love him. And now I'll live the rest of my days knowing that. While I'm married to someone else._


	22. Red Boots

_**I thought I'd go ahead and post this ahead of the holiday weekend.**_

Deacon was at the studio early. Now that Rayna was pregnant, they were working on recording her next album. It was somewhat slow going because they hadn't been ready to switch gears this soon and were still scrambling for songs. Deacon had pulled out some lyrics he'd written long ago, back when he and Rayna had been together, and reworked them a bit. He knew she'd never consider it though, but he'd give it a try. She'd never shown interest in performing his songs. At least since she'd been with Teddy.

Just then he heard a child's running feet. He smiled to himself. Maddie. That meant Rayna was here. But he had to admit he enjoyed seeing Maddie in her own right. It had surprised him how much he loved that little girl. He supposed a lot of that was because she was Rayna's, but something about Maddie had gotten into his heart and stayed there.

"Deacon!" he heard her little voice call out as she got closer. Then suddenly she burst into the room.

Deacon looked up and smiled at her, moving his guitar to rest against the couch next to him. Today she was wearing her little cowgirl dress and her tiny cowgirl hat. Then he felt his heart turn over as he saw the tiny red boots on her feet. Those were new. She ran over and threw herself at him. "Hey, Maddie," he said as he hugged her. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

She sat down next to him and lifted one foot. "Look! Red boots! Just like Mama's!" she cried.

"I see," he said. He heard Rayna's footsteps and then she appeared in the door. He took a deep breath. Some days it was hard to see her, now nearly eight months pregnant. But today wasn't so bad. She always looked so beautiful and today was no exception. He even felt himself get a little turned on, looking at her. She truly had a glow about her and he found himself wondering what it would be like to touch her now, make love to her. But then he pushed that feeling deep down inside.

"I made Mama wear her red boots too," Maddie announced. And she had. Deacon supposed that was part of why she looked so sexy to him today. He'd always loved her red boots. He smiled at Rayna.

"She just had to have them," Rayna said, by way of explanation. She walked over and carefully lowered herself onto the couch on the other side of Maddie. She put her elbow on the back of the couch and propped her head on her hand as she gazed at Deacon with a smile. "She wanted to wear them today to show you. She actually specifically demanded that at breakfast this morning." She looked down at her daughter. "Didn't you, sweet girl?"

Maddie nodded firmly. She snuggled into Deacon then. He cleared his throat and then smiled at the little girl. "Well, they really look good on you, Maddie." He looked up at Rayna and winked. "And on your mama too." He winced then. "But I bet they're hot today," he said to her. It was summer and most people had put their boots away until fall.

Rayna rolled her eyes, but was smiling. "Yes, they are." She rubbed her belly with her free hand. "And then you top it off with this furnace I carry around with me all the time and I'm ready to take them off." She sat up and attempted to lean over to do just that. "I need to get them off!" she cried, frustration creeping into her voice.

Deacon could see she was struggling, so he shifted Maddie over and then reached down to pull first one, then the other, boot off Rayna's feet. She smiled gratefully, stretching out her legs and wiggling her toes. "Better?" he asked.

"Much. Thank you." She smiled again. She glanced at the coffee table and saw Deacon's notebook. She nodded towards it. "Were you working on a song?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Actually reworking something I wrote a long time ago."

Rayna raised her eyebrows. "Can I look at it?" Deacon nodded and she reached for the notebook, resting it on top of her belly as she read. She felt a twinge in her heart and she breathed in slowly. _Sometimes it feels like I'm so far away / Like everything I loved has lost its place / When life gets the best of me / I just close my eyes and see / Fireflies dancin' in the yard / Under a blanket of stars / The sound of that old rusty string guitar playing songs we knew…._ She swallowed hard and then looked up at Deacon. His eyes were shadowed and he was working his lip. "Um, when did you write this?" she asked.

"Back after we got the cabin." Deacon's voice was low and quiet.

Rayna nodded mutely, then looked back down at the notebook and then away from him. When she finally looked back, her eyes were sad. "The words are beautiful, Deacon. I hope you're planning to sing it yourself."

He nodded. "Yeah." He knew she wouldn't consider it. Too raw, too close to the heart.

Just then Maddie scooted off the couch and tap danced her way across the room. Deacon and Rayna turned to watch her reach into the tote Rayna had brought with her and pull out a couple of dolls, which she then hopped up on a chair and began to play with. That broke the tension in the room. Rayna laid the notebook back on the table.

Deacon nodded his head towards Maddie. "She's growing up so fast. Is she getting excited about a new brother or sister?"

Rayna smiled. "No. She sort of pretends like it's not happening. When I ask her anything about it, she says 'What baby?' I'm not sure what's going to happen when a baby actually comes home."

Deacon chuckled. "She's a pistol, that one. I'm sure it'll all work out."

Rayna nodded, then pulled her legs up under her on the couch and focused her attention on watching Maddie. Deacon took that as his cue that their conversational interlude was over. He picked up his guitar and played through the music for the song he'd written, plus some random riffs, as they waited for Rayna's producer to get there. He stole little glances at her, thinking about how it could have been the two of them building this family together, if only he'd gotten his shit together earlier. He just really and truly never thought, back then, that she wouldn't wait, that she wouldn't be there.

On more than one occasion, he wondered what it would be like if Maddie was his daughter. She looked enough like him, with dark hair and blue eyes, that he could envision it. He knew she took after Teddy, but she also had a lot of Rayna in her. If they were together, then the baby Rayna was pregnant with now would have been theirs too. They would have created two beautiful children – because he was sure the new one would be too – and would have had a happy life, making music and being together. He still wanted that, but he couldn't imagine it with anyone but Rayna. He was mad at himself for how he'd screwed this up.

Rayna focused on Maddie but she was acutely aware that Deacon was sitting just an arms' length away from her. She could reach out and run her fingers along his arm, then she could slide over and snuggle up under his arm while they watched their daughter playing. Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked hard. Why was this the time he finally got sober? Why couldn't it have been after the second time? Or the third time? When they were still together? All this could have been _their_ family. It was all she had ever wanted. It was still what she wanted, even though Teddy had claimed Maddie for his own and this baby that was turning a somersault inside her now did actually belong to Teddy. The family she wanted, she now had, but it wasn't with the man she'd planned it with. Her heart felt heavy.

She thought about the words to Deacon's song. She knew he'd wanted her to want to sing it, but she couldn't. She knew he missed her, but it was too late. Even if she didn't want it to be, it was too late.

"Hey, you two," came the voice of Randy, her producer, from the door. "Ready?"

They both looked up and nodded. Deacon got up and held his hand out for Rayna. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile, taking his hand and letting him pull her up. For the briefest of moments, she thought about how much she missed the feel of that warm, calloused, but familiar hand, touching her. She thought she saw a little longing, a little sadness in his eyes. She knew she felt a stirring deep down inside. She wondered if it would forever be like this. That want that she would never again be able to satisfy. That she had to constantly tamp down.

Her touch still set him on fire. He was sure he saw yearning in her eyes. She was standing there, holding his hand, all hugely pregnant with another man's child – again – and he'd never wanted her more. And he thought he saw that same want briefly flash across her face, but he had to push that observation down. It was too painful otherwise. Then he walked purposefully out of the room behind Randy, leaving Rayna to get Maddie and her things together and follow behind.

Rayna watched him walk out the door. She sighed as she picked up her red boots, padding barefoot down the hall towards the recording studio, Maddie skipping along beside her.

_And all that I have to do / Is think one little thought of you / And I'm back home / I'm right back home._


	23. I'm Proud Of You

Deacon pulled up in front of his house and parked. He sat in the truck for a few minutes looking at the bronze chip he'd gotten at his meeting today. Five years sober. He never thought he'd make it to five years. He remembered the day he hit one year. He'd gotten a job that day. A steady job back in Rayna's band. In all the years he'd been with Rayna, he'd never made it a full year without a drink. Even after he'd gone through rehab the first four times, he'd never stayed completely clean for that long. So to make it five years was pretty incredible.

Even though he and Rayna weren't together when she sent him to rehab the last time, he'd gotten sober for her. Every single day that he was there he'd focused on Rayna. She had stood with him for so long and he'd disappointed her time after time. This time he knew he had to get it right, even if there was nothing left for them when it was over.

This time when he walked out the door, she wasn't there. Coleman was there to pick him up and take him home to Nashville. Coleman was the one who'd told him Rayna had married Teddy Conrad and that they were having a baby, a baby was due any day. He had cried that day, cried for all he'd lost, cried for the family Rayna had wanted to have with him and was now having with someone else. He'd lost everything, but he was determined not to lose his sobriety this time. So even though it was hard, he had persevered. He had felt rewarded that day she'd called and asked him to come back to her band. He had listened the next day as she laid out the ground rules for working together. And then he'd gone to a meeting, both to celebrate and to draw strength, because the Lord knew he wanted to go to a bar instead.

Five years. Five years with no booze, no pills. Five years for Rayna. They'd learned to be friends. It wasn't always easy, but they had learned together to stay true to those boundaries Rayna had laid out when he came back. They learned to write songs together again, they learned to enjoy each other's company, they learned to support each other. And he stayed sober for her.

He had learned to love her daughters. Actually that part hadn't been hard at all. He first met Maddie when she was six months old. Holding her reminded him of the times he'd held Scarlett when she was little and he had remembered how Rayna had instructed him to hold a baby. Maddie had developed a real attachment to him, which had surprised him, and he was even more surprised at how much he loved her too. He often thought that Rayna had a pensive look on her face when she would see them together and he knew it was because she was reminded of the times they talked about having a family of their own. And then Daphne had arrived and it was hard not to love the happy little baby who seemed to always be smiling.

When Rayna got pregnant with Daphne, though, he'd had to dig deep to find the strength to stay the course. So often he'd dreamt of a day when Rayna would see how much he'd changed, that he was committed to being sober and she'd come back to him. But her having Daphne had made that dream harder to hold on to. It seemed she was committed to Teddy Conrad and the family they had. She did seem happy and content, but there were too many times he'd seen the sadness in her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. When her hand would linger just a little longer on his arm, when the line of a song would turn just a little too personal. But then she would pull back. And he still stayed sober for her.

Rayna had always been a private person. She'd perfected the performance face, the performance smile, and only he knew what was really going on inside her. Their relationship had never been a secret, but she had closely guarded their privacy, never talking about what went on behind closed doors. When his struggles with addiction became more obvious and his stays in rehab became public, she still refused to talk about it, never shared her frustration and pain and anger with anyone but him. But now it seemed like she'd built a shell around herself. It was like something had been turned off inside her. The only time he really saw the warmth he'd known from her was when she was with her daughters. Whenever he did see her with Teddy, he was always struck by how passionless she seemed. The woman he'd known and lived with and loved would never have been so passive. It always made him wonder.

Over the last year or so, though, she'd come out of her shell more with him, it seemed. They laughed more, joked more, talked more, fought more. She seemed more at ease with him, finally. It made him hopeful, he couldn't help it. He knew he was probably kidding himself, but he felt like there was a crack. And he was determined to push through if he could. So he stayed sober for her.

He finally got out of the truck and headed up the steps to his front porch. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and was startled to look to his left and see Rayna getting up from the porch swing. "Ray," he said. "What are you doing here?" He realized he'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed her SUV parked on the street. "Have you been here long?"

She shook her head. "Not too long." Then she smiled at him a little shyly. "Today is your five years, right?"

He was surprised that she remembered. "Yeah," he said.

"Well, I wanted to let you know how proud I am of you. I'm so happy you've done this. For yourself." She turned and leaned down to pick up a guitar case that was next to the swing. "I got you something. To celebrate your milestone."

He was stunned. "You didn't need to do that," he said.

She smiled at him. "I know. But I wanted to. To show you that I'm supporting you, that I'm there for you and I believe in you." She nodded at the door. "Can we go in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said and turned to unlock the door. He held the door while she walked in and then followed, closing it behind him.

She looked around when she walked in. She felt a little overwhelmed at first, with the memories of the time she'd lived in this place with him rushing at her. She felt it in the pit of her stomach and her chest felt tight. She hadn't been here since the day she'd left him. It still felt like their house. It even still looked like their house. Deacon wasn't much for decorating and most of what was here when she'd left was still here. She felt like she couldn't breathe for a moment.

"Ray? You okay?" Deacon asked, concern in his voice.

That kind of broke the spell and she took a deep breath and then turned back towards him, a smile on her face. "Yeah," she said. "I was just thinking how long it's been since I was here." She gave him a teasing look. "It looks just the same."

Deacon shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, well, you know how I am about decorating."

Rayna nodded. "I do." She looked around again and then held up the guitar case. "So I got this for you. To celebrate five years." She walked to the coffee table and laid the case down. She flipped the latches and opened the case to reveal the 1936 Martin acoustic, with a Brazilian rosewood bridge and fingerboard.

Deacon was stunned. He ran his hand over his mouth. "Ray," he said, his voice nearly a whisper. He couldn't move.

She knew he'd know the extravagance of the gift. He would probably wonder about that. But she didn't care. They had never, in all their years together, given each other extravagant gifts. Well, except for the cabin. This gift, in no way, made up for everything she'd taken from him, although without his knowledge. She knew he would know she'd done this because her feelings for him still ran so deep.

Watching him with Maddie had been bittersweet. She and Teddy fought about it often, but there was a part of her that always thought of Maddie as hers and hers alone. And if she couldn't tell Deacon Maddie belonged to him, she would make sure he was part of her life. What she hadn't expected was how they had connected with each other. It made her heart hurt and the lie taste harsh in her mouth.

The guitar didn't make up for that, but it was her way of telling him they were still deeply connected. And she knew he'd understand.

Rayna reached down and pulled the guitar out of the case and held it out to him. He hesitantly reached out to take it from her. "Will you play me a little something?" she asked.

He looked at her, still in shock. But he nodded and sat on the couch. She walked over and sat down next to him. He ran his fingers gently over the strings and closed his eyes as he listened to the beautiful sound. He randomly played a few riffs and then settled into something familiar.

_I'm quitting the bottle at the end of the day / Wanna be there for heaven / When it opens the gates / I'll give up the lying / If you're gonna stay / I'll be quitting at the end of the day_

He stopped and looked at Rayna. He could see the hint of tears in her eyes and the struggle on her face not to cry. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

She smiled. "I always loved that song," she said.

He nodded. "It sure means a lot more now."

The air between them was heavy with all their history and the significance of this song that Deacon had written during his third stay in rehab. That was the first time he'd truly not been sure she'd be waiting for him when he got out and he'd been so grateful that she was. The song had been his promise to her, a promise he ended up breaking just like so many others.

Rayna took a deep breath, breaking the spell. She looked slightly uncomfortable and she stood up. "I need to get home," she said. Deacon stood and nodded. She hesitantly took a step forward, then reached out to draw him into a hug. "I'm so proud of you, Deacon," she murmured into his shoulder.

She lingered a little in the hug. She was pretty sure Deacon knew it and didn't care. But she needed to breathe in the smell of him, feel his body next to hers.

The first year he'd come back to her band, after Maddie was born, if they ever touched, they would jump back as if it were an electric shock. Everything was still so raw and painful, plus she had the weight of her secret hanging over her. But over time, they had accepted their flawed but passionate history and, instead of trying to pretend, they just relaxed into an acknowledgement of it.

That's when they squeezed hands or arms more, hugged more, sat close to each other again. He would put his hand on her shoulder or the small of her back. It felt comfortable. She knew it was probably risky, dangerous even, to relax into this type of intimacy. But Deacon was her family. He'd always been.

Deacon smelled her hair. She still used the same shampoo. He remembered that fresh, slightly floral smell. It smelled like springtime. He loved the feel of her hair against his face. He loved how her curves still fit him so perfectly.

Even though he accepted where their lives were now, he appreciated the change in her reactions to him. She trusted him with Maddie and now with Daphne. She leaned into him now instead of away. She had always been a toucher. She loved that physical connection and he was glad she was comfortable with that again.

When she finally stepped back, Deacon put his hands in his pockets. "Thanks, Ray. That really means a lot."

Rayna gave him a small smile, put her hand on his arm and squeezed gently, then walked out the door.

Deacon took in a shuddering breath, then ran his hands over his face. He looked down at the guitar and he knew he would continue to stay sober for her.


	24. Ten Years Sober

Rayna looked at the calendar. Today was ten years that Deacon had been sober. It wasn't a surprise; she'd known it was coming. She kept a hanging calendar for Maddie and now Daphne. There was a gold star on the date every year. The girls never mentioned it, but Teddy did. He'd asked about it once and she said one of the girls had probably done it. He had smiled a little and never mentioned it again.

Every year she brought Deacon coffee and they would talk about everything and nothing. She always congratulated him, telling him how proud she was. As the years had gone by, that day had become both a touchstone for the two of them and a bittersweet regret for her.

They had grown closer over the years. In many ways, they both felt they had practically come full circle with each other. There was no sex, of course, but there was an undeniable intimacy between them again. The only things they didn't discuss were her marriage to Teddy and his string of one-night stands and brief relationships. And, of course, the truth about Maddie.

She had given him a beautiful Martin acoustic guitar for his fifth year of sobriety. He hadn't expected it and had been a little overwhelmed by the gesture. She had thought later that it was probably too much, that he could have read something into it that she hadn't necessarily intended. She didn't want to go overboard this time but she wanted to do more than just a cup of coffee. Ten years was a big deal.

As they had fallen back into a more comfortable rhythm in their relationship, Rayna realized that she'd also put the knowledge that Deacon was Maddie's father further behind her. She had long since stopped thinking about it every day. She supposed nurture could trump nature, because Maddie surely had many of Teddy's mannerisms and habits. She was a serious girl, which occasionally made Rayna think of Deacon, but she had grown up happy and vivacious and even a little silly at times. It seemed normal to think of her as Teddy's daughter.

Maddie had gravitated to Deacon from the start, which had initially caused Rayna some alarm, but over time she'd been able to convince herself it was just a little girl looking up to her "Uncle" Deacon. There were a handful of times Rayna thought about whether she should tell Deacon about his daughter and times she wondered if she'd ever tell him. She always considered the lives it could blow up – Maddie's and Deacon's, of course, but also Teddy's and Daphne's, and even her own. She had promised Teddy all those years ago she would never tell and sometimes she wondered about the wisdom of that promise and that decision.

Ten years sober. It was days like this when Rayna wondered why she hadn't given him one more chance. She knew the answer, of course. That there was no way to know this would be the time it worked, because his history suggested it would not. And she was already more than three months pregnant, her belly already slightly rounded with their baby, and she had a terrible decision to make.

Rayna shook off the introspection. She gathered up her purse and headed out the door. She'd finally decided on the gift she wanted to give Deacon to commemorate this milestone and she needed to pick it up before heading to rehearsal.

* * *

As she drove to Sound Check, she glanced over at the package in the front seat. When she'd come up with the idea, she'd had no idea how to get it done. She'd asked Bucky, in the vaguest of terms, and he'd been able to point her in the right direction. She wasn't sure if he knew what her reason for asking was or what it had to do with, but she knew that if he even guessed, he'd be discreet. It was one of the things that she valued most about Bucky Dawes. He was a great manager and a great teacher. Along with Watty, Bucky had taught her most of what she knew about the music business and how to operate in it successfully. In many ways it had reminded her of how Deacon had taught her about writing songs. Bucky could explain things in a way that made sense and he always made sure she knew how to navigate successfully in any business situation. He'd gotten her her first record deal and had negotiated her first headline tour. She could count on him to have her back always. And to keep all her secrets.

She reached over and touched the package, smiling to herself. She thought Deacon would like it. She had never wanted to hold him back and she felt a little like she had, by holding on to him. She knew that a lot of why Deacon had never really gone beyond being her bandleader was due to his own troubles. She had wanted him to try going out on his own, but he'd wanted to stick with her. And then later, his alcoholism and addiction meant that she was really the only act in town that would work with him, and certainly no label wanted to touch him.

They had talked about it once, after he'd come back to her band, after she'd married Teddy and Maddie had been born. She thought about that conversation. He'd hung around after rehearsal, like he often did, to talk. They were sitting in one of the offices at Sound Check and had been talking about the set list for her upcoming tour.

"I still want the last encore to be 'Already Gone'. It's my favorite," she said.

Deacon smiled at her. It was a sentimental favorite for both of them, the first song they'd written together. "It's a great song, Ray. I think we have a good set list here. A good mix of stuff."

Rayna sat up and rested her arms on her legs, lowering her head for a moment. When she looked back up at him, she had a serious look on her face. "Deacon, why do you keep doing this?" she asked.

He looked a little taken aback. "I don't know what you mean, Ray," he said.

She leaned back against the back of the couch and looked at him seriously. "You've been sober almost three years. You've proved yourself to be reliable and dependable. People respect you as a guitarist and as a performer. You write great songs and you're a great singer. Why do you still want to be in my band?"

Deacon frowned. "Do you not want me here anymore?"

Rayna shook her head. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all. I love having you in my band. I am so much better with you in my band."

He looked puzzled. "Then what _are_ you saying? You want me to be in your band, but you, what, want me to do something else?"

She sighed and got a sad look in her eyes. "I never wanted to hold you back, Deacon. I feel like you came here to Nashville with your own dreams and mine got in the way."

He shook his head. "I don't see it that way, Ray. I don't need to be out in the spotlight. And, quite frankly, I'm not sure it would be good for me to. Being out on the road and all that is tough on someone like me. It would be harder if I were out on my own. Besides, I like being in your band. I like playing with you and writing with you."

"Would you tell me if you wanted to try?" she asked, looking at him carefully. "Because if you do, I'd never stand in your way."

Deacon smiled and shook his head. "I'm good, Ray. I play every third Thursday at the Bluebird and that's enough for me. But yes, if I ever change my mind, I will tell you."

She still wasn't sure she had believed it then and she still wondered today. She knew it probably was easier to be part of her band, although it surely hadn't prevented him from going down a very dark path back in the days when he was still drinking. She supposed some of it was that it was a habit, a comfortable place to be. She still thought he could be a headliner if he wanted to. She knew he wrote a lot of songs, songs he played at the Bluebird, songs that she was pretty sure were about her. He'd been able to get his publishing deal back, so that probably helped him feel like he had something of his own.

She remembered when he had cut his only album. He'd asked her to help him pick out the songs and she had sat in the studio while he recorded the album. She'd been so proud of him for doing it and then so disappointed for him that it had languished on the shelves. He hadn't been as lucky as she had been, to get a record deal, and so a tiny independent outfit had distributed it, without any marketing and no radio support. He had given up then on the idea of his own solo career and insisted he was satisfied being her bandleader. She still thought it was a great album and that it should have had more success.

You could still find the record, in the small independent record stores that dotted the landscape in Nashville. One of the things that made Nashville so unique was that it was a city that loved and treasured music. And music made for its own sake. So she'd been able to find a copy of his album, in vinyl, and Bucky had helped her get it gold-plated. She had then gotten it framed, with a copy of the album cover, just as if it had really been a gold record.

She looked over again at the package. In the weeks and months after it had been released, she knew it had devastated him to have it ignored. He never let anyone but her know his disappointment, though. That was his way. It was part of what she thought probably had contributed to his difficulty with sobriety, the fact that it was always hard for him to express his feelings. But as time went on, he'd let go of the hurt and resentment, and so she thought he was in a place where he would accept it from her. She felt like it was a way for her to honor what he'd done and how much she had believed in him then. And now.

* * *

Rehearsal went well. They were leaving for a six-month long arena tour in two weeks. Rayna felt good about where they were. The band was tight and playing well, thanks to Deacon. She didn't know what she would do if she didn't have him leading her band. It made everything else so much easier on her. He took care of all the song arrangements and he put together the set list, with her input. He hired and fired band members and he was an excellent mentor to anyone new. They ran through the set from start to final encore and then she shouted out, "That's a wrap! Thank y'all!" She clapped enthusiastically, with a big smile on her face, and, when she looked at everyone, they seemed pleased as well.

As the band was breaking things down, Rayna called out to Deacon. "Deacon, can you stay a minute?"

He looked up from some paperwork and smiled. "Of course."

The rest of the band seemed to know that was their cue to leave and they did. Everyone who'd worked for Rayna for any amount of time knew that Deacon was the person she relied on, even more, perhaps, than Bucky. They knew about their prior relationship and, if they wondered about where things stood now, they kept it to themselves.

When it was just the two of them, Deacon walked over to the couch where Rayna was sitting and joined her, sitting far enough away, but not so far as to seem like they weren't the friends they had become. "What's up, Ray?" he asked.

She smiled. "Well, I know today is a big day for you." She saw him draw in a breath, his eyebrows raised. "Ten years."

He nodded. "Yeah."

She reached for the package and laid it on the couch between the two of them. "I had this made for you." She looked at him hesitantly. "I hope you like it."

He shook his head. "Rayna, you know you don't have to do something like this. A cup of coffee would have been fine." He appreciated her acknowledgements of his success more than he could say out loud. He did this for her, but he didn't really want gifts. He really just wanted her. He knew, by this point, it was less likely all the time that he'd get that, but he still hoped.

"I know," she said quietly. "But I wanted to. I want you to know that I'm proud of you, that I believe in you. That I have faith in you." She still loved him. She suspected he knew that. She wished things were different. She wished she'd had that crystal ball ten years earlier that would have told her this was possible. But she didn't, and she'd made the choice she thought she had to make, and now they were here. She felt like she had to make her statement to him the only way she could. She pushed it slightly towards him. "Open it."

He took a deep breath and then he picked it up. He couldn't even imagine what it was. It felt like a picture of some kind. He tore at the paper and, when he'd pulled it back far enough to see what it was, he swallowed hard. Then he looked up at her, his eyes grateful for what this meant. "God, Ray," he muttered.

She smiled at him, her eyes glistening with a hint of tears. "You should have had a gold record, Deacon. Now you do." She reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Congratulations on ten years. I'm so proud of you."

He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He just looked at the gift. It looked just like a real gold record. It was his record, his album cover. He couldn't really tell her how much he appreciated it. The silence stretched out and finally she stood up. He set the framed record down and got up as well, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Rayna looked at him for a moment and then stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. He hesitated only a moment before he put his arms around her and returned the hug. One hand snaked up to cup the back of her head and he breathed in her smell. "I knew you could do this, Deacon," she whispered into his chest.

"I wish I'd done it sooner," he said.

She pulled back. She looked away, then looked back at him with a sad smile. "Me too." She put her hand on his arm and squeezed it gently. "Congratulations. I'll see you tomorrow." He nodded mutely. Then he turned to watch her as she picked up her purse and walked out the door.


	25. Singing It Twenty Years Later

It was late when Rayna turned onto Hillsboro Pike and headed for home. The traffic lights were on flash, reminding her that Nashville, in many ways, was still a small town. It wouldn't take her long to drive home from the Bluebird. Not long enough to really thoroughly think through what had just happened. She'd have to do that later.

She blamed it on those awful invasive men. Okay, truthfully, they probably weren't really awful. They were just doing their job, with that damn vulnerability study for Teddy's campaign. But it _was_ invasive. All those questions about Deacon. And his trips to rehab. All that private, personal stuff that was _nobody's_ business. She was still protecting him, she knew that.

Fuck it all. She'd walked out, mad. She was polite and all, because she was Rayna Jaymes, but she was still mad at being questioned like that. She found Teddy in the study, after she'd gone back to their bedroom and changed clothes, fixed her hair the way she remembered Deacon liking it, putting on the diamond earrings he'd given her. She hadn't stopped to think about what she was doing, even after she lied to Teddy about where she was going. Until now.

* * *

Deacon asked her every now and then to come see him at the Bluebird. Every third Thursday. She hadn't done it before. Thought about it, but hadn't. Because she knew what would happen if she did. But today he had challenged her about it, threw it in her face that she'd never come to see him. So tonight she did.

She knew that she was playing with fire, a bit, but she'd been pissed about all the questions those men were asking her in advance of Teddy's campaign. She liked to keep her private life private and their questions had been so invasive and had stirred up a lot of the feelings she'd long suppressed about Deacon. And then there was the whole Juliette Barnes fiasco. She was pretty sure songwriting wasn't all that was going on between Juliette and Deacon, and the delivery of that guitar had made her furious.

So she told Teddy she had a meeting. He had kissed her and gone back to his campaign prep, not worried at all. It wasn't unusual in the music business for meetings to take place at night, often at bars or in music venues. So Teddy would never have seen it as odd for her to go out at nine o'clock. Thinking about that now made her feel like she had been careless regarding her husband and she felt guilty about that.

When she had gotten to the Bluebird, she parked as far from the entrance as she could, in front of the furniture store. She saw Deacon's truck parked a few spaces away. She turned off the car and sat, wondering what the hell she was really doing there.

The reason she never came was because it brought back memories of when she and Deacon were together. She had worked hard over the last fourteen years to put all those feelings into a bottle and seal them away. After she had spent the first year she was married to Teddy crying herself to sleep every night, she had made a decision to stop.

The feelings were right there still, under the surface, but she had figured out how to compartmentalize them so that she could live every day focused on Teddy and their girls. She had learned how to have Deacon in her life, personally and professionally, every single day and yet not step over the firm boundary she had carefully laid out for them.

Still it was not surprising at all the way things had gone that night.

* * *

She finally made herself get out of the car and walk in. It was crowded, but not full. She greeted Erika and watched Deacon on stage. He saw her, she knew that. And so, of course, he called her out and invited her up to sing with him.

When she sat down next to him, he leaned in. "'No One Will Ever Love You.' Okay? You know that's what everyone expects."

She looked at him and hesitated for just a second. Then she gave him a small smile and nodded.

They had written that song about twenty years ago and had introduced it here. She had written some of the lyrics – the first verse – but couldn't make the rest work. It was Deacon who had come up with the second verse, and the idea of a duet, and it had become her most popular song. It was probably the most intensely personal song they had ever written and performed together. They hadn't sung it in nearly fifteen years, though, for obvious reasons. The applause was loud and appreciative when the crowd recognized the opening chords.

As soon as they were done, she knew it had been a mistake. The genie was out of the bottle and there was no way to put it back in. She felt sick to her stomach and yet felt those intoxicating butterflies of anticipation, all at the same time.

They sang two more songs – "Postcard from Mexico" and "American Beauty" and the night came to an end. She couldn't leave right away, as fans streamed up for pictures and autographs and kind words. She was conscious of Deacon just a hair's breadth away from her and she could scarcely breathe.

She smiled warmly, in spite of it all because, after all, she was Rayna Jaymes. And even though she didn't like thinking of herself this way, she was a star and she had a reputation to uphold.

They chatted with Scarlett, then with Watty briefly. Finally the crowd was clearing out.

She ran her tongue over her lips, then looked at him. "I need to go," she said quietly.

He nodded. "I'll walk you out."

She shook her head. "You don't need to."

"I know. But it's late. So I want to."

She nodded and smiled briefly. She followed him out the door. They said nothing to each other as they walked down the sidewalk and then bypassed her car and got into Deacon's truck.

They both sat there, not looking at each other, staring out the windshield. She sighed deeply and looked down at her lap. When she felt Deacon's hand cup the back of her neck, she looked up at him and then leaned in. They kissed hungrily for long minutes, his hand on her neck and hers on his leg. They kissed with all the passion and yearning and longing that had been pent up all those years. The feel of his lips on hers, his tongue battling hers, sent waves of desire coursing through her body. She didn't want to stop kissing him. She wanted something more. Much more.

When she pulled away slightly, he reluctantly let her lips go and leaned his forehead to hers, as they breathed in and out as if one. Then she moved her hand and sat back in her seat and he let his hand drop. They went back to staring out the windshield, knowing that the boundary had been irrevocably breached.

She sat there for a moment, then said, "I wish we hadn't done that song."

He breathed out, his jaw clenching. "Now what are we gonna do?" he asked, his voice tight.

Rayna said nothing, tears pricking at her eyes. She was afraid of what the answer would be to that question. So she got out of his truck and stumbled to her car.

Now she was driving home, to her husband and her daughters. Driving away from the only man she ever truly loved. She wasn't sure how she was going to do this now. She couldn't go back to the way it had been. The dam had been broken and now they would have to figure out how to navigate this all over again. One thing she knew for sure was that if something like that kiss ever happened again, she would probably make a whole different decision than the one she made tonight.

She kept hearing that song playing over and over in her head. That song they had written all those years ago. The one that was like their promise to each other that they were in it for the long haul, that after what was supposed to be Deacon's only trip to rehab, they'd never love anyone else. It had been her promise to him for so many years. _No one will ever love you, like I do._

**So we've come full circle from the first chapter. This is the end of what I'd had in mind originally for this, but there will be an epilogue. Thanks for reading!**


	26. Like I Do

**EPILOGUE**

Rayna was sitting in front of her vanity mirror, ready to put on her makeup. As she got out her foundation, she looked at herself closely in the mirror. She liked to think she'd aged well. She had a few lines around her eyes – Daphne liked to call them "crinkle lines" – and light frown lines on her forehead. Her skin was still clear though, and soft, not dry like Tandy's. Tandy bitched constantly about her dry skin and getting old. Rayna smiled at the thought of that. She set the foundation bottle down and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back off her face. She thought she was really too old for long hair and usually she'd wear it pulled back in a ponytail or a bun of some kind. She had considered cutting it short again, like she wore it when she was first starting out, but when she'd sat in the hair stylist's chair to finally do it, she'd balked. She'd had her monthly touch up a week ago to keep the stray grays hidden. That pissed her off more than anything. She hated the idea of turning gray.

Today was her birthday and she was turning fifty-five. She made a face in the mirror. Some days she felt every bit of those fifty-five years and more, other days she felt a lot younger. A lot had changed in the last fifteen years. She'd divorced Teddy Conrad, after fourteen years of marriage. Maddie had found out that Deacon Claybourne was her father and that had caused a great deal of turmoil in all their lives. She'd bought out her contract with Edgehill Republic and started her own label, Highway 65. She'd almost died in a nasty car accident but had survived. She'd gotten two marriage proposals in one night. And ten years ago today, on her forty-fifth birthday, she'd gotten remarried.

* * *

Highway 65 had been a shelter in the storm of her life. She had fought to keep it during one of the worst times of her life, when it seemed that she might lose everything. On the day she thought all was lost and that she would not only lose the label but her house as well, Tandy had come by with the news that their father's estate had finally been settled and there was more than enough money to keep the label afloat. She and Tandy had laughed and cried and then they sat out at the pool and got silly drunk on wine. Maddie and Daphne had come home from school to find them laughing so hard they were crying, and slurring their words. She would be able to build up her fledgling label after all. At that point, the only other artist she had besides herself was Juliette Barnes. But now she could do what she'd wanted to do, create a refuge for artists.

She had taken some time off to heal first, though. Two days after Tandy's news about their father's estate, Rayna had taken off, leaving everything behind. It had been hard to leave her girls, but she had needed to be alone. So she had left H65 in Tandy and Bucky's hands and the girls with Teddy and gotten on an airplane that ultimately led her to northern California. She rented a cottage that overlooked the Pacific Ocean in a small beach community two hours north of San Francisco. She called the girls every day, but that was the extent of her contact with life in Nashville. What she had figured out, in the aftermath of the proposals, was that she needed to clear her head and she needed to get re-centered. Her life had spiraled out of control and she had lost sight of what was important. She slept a lot, she wandered the beach for hours, and then sat looking out over the ocean, calming her mind.

She missed her girls terribly, though, and after she had been gone a month, she called Teddy and asked him to put them on a plane to San Francisco. She drove to the airport and was surprised at how the busyness of the city and the throngs of people made her head hurt and left her feeling anxious. She knew then she wasn't ready to go back, so she and the girls spent the rest of the summer at the beach cottage. It was a healing time for all of them and an opportunity to repair the damage that had been left over from that year of upheaval.

She knew Maddie talked to Deacon regularly, but she was glad to know he didn't pressure her to know where they were. He would occasionally ask Maddie to speak to her, but she always refused. It always took time after she knew Maddie had talked with him to quiet her mind and her heart. She didn't want to hear his voice, at least not then. There would be time enough for that when she returned to Nashville.

Ironically, Teddy and Tandy were the two people who had given her some of the wisest advice as everything was crumbling around her. One day, as she was dropping off the girls, Teddy had sensed her inner conflict about Luke and had been more insightful than she would ever have thought possible for him. _Rayna, as much as it pains me to say this, you've already had a safe relationship. With me. Unless your heart's really in it, don't do that to yourself again._ And Tandy had hit at the heart of the matter as they had talked about the two proposals. _Sweetheart, you're trying to decide with your head instead of your heart. And maybe, right now, you're too close to it to make the right decision for you. Take your time to make the right decision. For you. There's no shame in saying you can't do this now._ Which led her to this. This place, this time, this space.

* * *

She knew the day would come when they would go home. They left the cottage the week before the girls were to start back to school and headed for the airport. Rayna had known she was ready to step back into her life, to change it up. She knew for sure that it was time when the sights and sounds of the city didn't bother her, but exhilarated her.

When she got back to Nashville, she stepped back into her role as the head of H65. Enough time had passed that the chatter about her broken engagement to Luke was old news. She and Deacon sat down and talked about moving forward just as Maddie's parents and what that meant. She kept busy with the label, focusing on finding new artists. When she had dropped out of sight, her record had slipped off the radar, and she was surprisingly okay with that. It was time, she thought, to change her focus.

She had finally apologized to Deacon for everything. One of the things that became crystal clear to her when she was alone on the beach was that she had let him go through all that by himself and he had actually let her off the hook. She'd allowed him to do that, of course, because it made her feel justified in all the decisions she'd made – the decision to not tell him about Maddie in the beginning and then to keep not telling him. But she had come to understand that she really did need to own the fact that _her_ decisions had led them to where things had ultimately blown up the night of the CMA's, all those years ago, as well as everything that happened afterwards. He had insisted again that she had nothing to be forgiven for, but she had insisted just as much that she did. They had finally had one last angry, accusing, emotional, and ultimately cleansing round with that and then they really did put it behind them, once and for all.

One of the other things she'd thought about while she was gone was how long it had been since she'd not had a man in her life. For so many years it was Deacon. Then it was Teddy. Then Deacon again, briefly. Then Luke. She realized that she didn't know who she was without a man by her side. Without being part of a couple. She wasn't at all sure that she could be alone, but she knew she had to try. There was no way that she could give herself to another man or receive love from another man if she didn't know herself. One thing she knew for sure, though, was that she couldn't repeat her old patterns.

For almost two years, she didn't date, she didn't sleep with a man, she didn't kiss another man. She didn't even try. At first Tandy tried to get her to go out socially, but she refused, unless it was to benefit her label or one of her artists, and then she always went alone. Maddie and Daphne wondered if she was ever going to date again, but she would just smile and tell them they were all she needed.

* * *

The girls were both grown up now and on their own. Maddie had signed with Highway 65 on the day she graduated from high school. A year later she gave up performing for songwriting, in a move that had surprised Rayna. Maddie had fought Rayna for several years over her desire to perform and tour. But she was happier than ever and had been very successful writing songs for other artists. Rayna created a publishing arm for her label in order to keep Maddie in the business.

Daphne had gone on to college and now was working for the label as a producer. She and Maddie still sang together, but mostly just for family and friends. Rayna loved having them as part of the family business, along with her husband, who ran the publishing side of the label. They _were_ a family, one thing that she had wanted above all else, a true sense of family.

Rayna herself had finally given up touring and recording for good and concentrated solely on running her label. And spending time with her husband. She smiled as she thought of him and of their life together. Their marriage had centered her in a way she'd never thought possible. The year following her accident had been the most difficult year of her life and it had been capped off by the two marriage proposals on the same night. She had ultimately told them both no. Luke Wheeler had stormed off, bitter and angry, threatening to destroy her. He would have, if not for the timely settling of Lamar Wyatt's will. Not surprisingly, Deacon had stoically walked away. Their paths would cross, of course, because of Maddie, but he had respected her decision.

The day came, though, when she had felt ready to love again and it had taken a surprisingly short amount of time for her to be ready for marriage. She had almost surprised herself when she had proposed it, but it had left her feeling complete. She had figured out that she needed a partner, an equal, someone she would enjoy spending time with every single day. She wanted to be excited, she wanted to have fun and enjoy life. One thing she did know that she wanted and needed was a healthy sex life. She wanted to look at whoever this man would be and feel desired by him and desire him in return. He needed to know her and understand her and take her as she was. She wanted someone that would make her smile just thinking about him. And there he was. Right when she was ready.

Just then her husband walked in the room. She caught his eye in her mirror and she smiled. He was still as handsome as the day they'd met and she teased him often about how he just seemed more distinguished and not older. He was her best friend as well as the man she loved. He fit every single criteria she'd decided she needed. "Hey, babe," she said. "Happy anniversary."

He walked over to her and, taking her hand, pulled her up out of her chair and into his arms. "Happy anniversary," he said with a smile. "And happy birthday too."

She shook her head. "No birthdays. That's why we got married on that day, so I could replace birthdays with anniversaries." She leaned in and kissed him. "I'm so lucky to have you. And be married to you."

"No," he said, "I'm the lucky one. These have been the best ten years of my life."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Mine too." She ran her thumb over his lips. "I love you. So much."

He kissed her in that way he had, that still took her breath away and started the heat of desire curling through her body. She felt like she could stand there and kiss him all day. Then he leaned into her ear and whispered, "Just remember, no one will ever love you, like I do."

**THE END**


	27. Author's Note

**A/N: Just in case you didn't realize, her husband in the epilogue **_**was**_** Deacon.**


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